


Worth The Weight

by MischiefWriter9, Starrstruck_64



Category: Being Human (US/Canada), Captain America (Movies), Supernatural, Teen Wolf (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Tomorrow People (2013), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Restaurant, Belly Kink, Body Worship, Button Popping, Chubby Derek Hale, Chubby Gadreel, Chubby Lydia Martin, Chubby Stiles Stilinski, Crossover, Domestic Bliss, F/M, Fallen Angels, Feeder!Dean, Feeding Kink, Holiday Weight Gain, Human!Bishop, Human!Lucifer, Humiliation, Injury Recovery, Kink Meme, Kink Negotiation, Lady Loki, Love, Loving that booty, M/M, Multi, Oblivious weight gain, Pie Eating Contest, Pre-Threesome, Relationship weight gain, Sex, Stuffing, Teasing, Threesome - F/M/M, Threesome - M/M/M, Weigh-Ins, Weight Gain, Werevamp!Josh, Witches, baker!Josh, chef!Stiles, chubby Steve Rogers, chubby loki, drunk!Stiles, female!Lucifer, food critic!Derek, gaining out of spite, gratuitous big boob love, human!Gadreel, injury weight gain, lydia is the hostess with the mostest, meeting old friends and family, natalie martin’s A+ parenting, pregnant lucifer, seam ripping, subtle feederism, supernatural weight gain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-26 00:08:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 26,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18712498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MischiefWriter9/pseuds/MischiefWriter9, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starrstruck_64/pseuds/Starrstruck_64
Summary: Collection of chub fics with an array of pairings we RP





	1. Day 01: Supernaturally influenced weight gain

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SMANGST](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SMANGST/gifts).



> Each chapter is a new prompt and new pairing.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki finds out the hard way witches hold grudges.

It had been nearly a month before they realized something weird was happening. Really Lucifer knows they should have noticed sooner, but given with the relaxed attitude Loki had adopted when they got married, she had figured that it was just him setting into domesticity.  
   
The weight creeped on slowly enough that neither was aware of the changes, and probably would have remained in the dark if not for the fact that Loki’s favorite sinfully fitted leather pants had refused to fasten. Lu had thought nothing of it, Loki had a sweet tooth and really one pair of pants was hardly a loss.   
   
Loki on the other hand started getting suspicious. They’d always had an affinity for sweets but in all their years of indulgence they’d remained a trim 32” waist, and in a span of a month they’d suddenly managed to eat themselves out of their favorite pair of pants. Something was definitely up, even if Lu believed they were simply making mountains of mole hills.  
   
Of course Lu had to admit something screwy was going on when less than two weeks later another pair of pants were lost following a weeklong of strict diet and exercise. Loki had an actual layer of pudge over once flat abs, and a rip up his backside of his second favorite pair of black jeans.  
   
“Okay, perhaps you’ve got a point.” Lu had conceded, kneeling beside Loki, fingers tracing the exposed flesh pressing through the torn fabric.  
   
“You think?”  
   
“We will figure this out; just relax.”  
   
Logically Loki knows that Lu is simply trying to be supportive, but he thinks it’s reasonable to be upset; he’s managed to gain 25 pounds in six weeks.   
   
“You had better.”  
   
Loki will give Lu credit, she really does throw herself into finding a cure, but without knowing the cause it’s a bit difficult. They have it limited to three possibilities — witch, pissed off deity, or curse — and even then it’s tough to decide.  
   
With each passing day Loki is acutely aware of the weight piling onto his frame. It honesty feels as though his body is betraying him and he loathes it; because it doesn’t matter how much he tries cutting back on food or exercising, the scale keeps climbing higher.  
   
204  
   
He can feel his thighs rub when he walk now. The way his jeans feel more like sausage casings and the fabric is actually beginning to wear on the inseam.  
   
210  
   
His tummy is now constantly pushing out against his shirt, even when it’s empty. The fabric clings to his belly, highlighting the shallow dip of his navel, and has begun to slowly creep up and expose a pale strip of skin.  
   
216  
   
His ass jiggles. He found that out trying to squeeze into a new pair (36s now) of jeans. They’d gone up his thighs smoothly enough but got caught on his ass, only going up after some hopping and wiggling. Loki would be embarrassed if he weren’t so out of breath from the exertion stuffing himself into those pants took.  
   
222  
   
Loki is quickly finding out that ‘looks aren’t everything’ is a saying people use when they actually have looks. Lu adores him still of course, but Loki is less sure of himself with all the extra weight; especially now that there’s no hiding it in his face anymore. These last few pounds have his cheeks rounding out in an almost cherubic fashion and his chin is beginning to threaten at a double.  
   
230  
   
He feels like a pig, and if this keeps up he imagines he will look like one soon enough. He’s got fucking moobs now, hell even his fingers feel like they’re gaining.  
   
They’re coming up on a month of searching and honestly Loki is all out of hope. The scale read 242 this morning and Loki is about ready to just give up and resign to a life of inevitable immobility, when Lu finally gets a lead on a witch and possible cure.   
   
By the time they track down the witch Loki is up another 6 pounds, and he’s worn another hole in his jeans, but he doesn’t really care because freedom is waiting tables at a diner off Route 66.  
   
Trixie, honestly it’s the least witch like name Loki has ever heard, isn’t quite surprised to see him, if anything she looks positively gleeful. Or at least she mostly seems happy until Lu has her fingers wrapped firmly around Trixie’s neck and is holding her a foot off the ground.  
   
“You’ve crossed quite the line, cursing the Devil’s husband; I’ve half a mind to kill you where you stand.”  
   
Whether her eyes bulge out because of the lack of oxygen or Lu’s threat, Loki isn’t quite sure, but Trixie’s thrashing does seem more frantic as though she’s scared. Perhaps that’s why Lu lowers her back to the ground, fingers relaxing their grip slightly, but you’d have to be blind to miss the bruises littering the witch’s neck.  
   
“I’m sorry...” Trixie’s voice comes out in a pained rasp as she coughs trying to regain some air. “I had no idea...I thought he was lying.”  
   
Lu seems very unimpressed with the woman before her, but she knows she needs the witch to free Loki of the curse; it’s the only thing keeping her from snapping the girl’s neck where they stand.  
   
“I remember you now, you’re the woman who tried to pick me up...I told you I was married and you called me a shallow swine of a man.”  
   
Lu shoots Loki and exasperated look because that detail could have saved them quite a bit of time, but she supposes the fact that they found this imbecile Trixie is still a win.  
   
“If you wish to continue living, you will remove this damn curse.”  
   
Trixie nods muttering some old Latin and with a wave of her hand Loki feels as though a weight has been lifted. The whole process takes all of a minute and a half, and when it’s over Trixie is looking to Lu hopefully.   
   
“The curse is broken, it’ll take some time but he will return to normal...once again I am terribly sorry, I had no idea.”  
   
“Oh so it’s fine to curse normal people then? You’re a terrible excuse for a witch and you’re lucky I don’t kill you anyway, I still might if I catch wind of you pulling anymore of these stunts on men that rebuff your tactless advances. Is that clear?”  
   
Trixie looks spooked but nods dumbly before squeaking out a yes ma’am.  
   
Lu nods giving a satisfied smirk before turning to Loki, “come on dear let us get you home.”  
   
Loki smirks following Lu eagerly, he’s familiar with that tone of voice; it’s her voice she uses when Loki is gonna get lucky, and he will be damned if he misses that opportunity.   
   
“Besides, I wanna enjoy this before you’re back to being thin,” she murmurs trailing a hand along the thin sliver of exposed skin.  
   
And oh, with all the focus being on finding a cure, Loki hadn’t stopped to really address the elephant in the room on why Lu was so accepting of the changes. Huh, he’d have never guessed his wife honestly enjoyed this, but it was a good bit of news to file away for a later date.  
   
“Well that sounds like the best news ‘I’ve heard all day, darling.”  
   
Tugging Loki into a searing kiss, Lu snaps them back to their private home living a bewildered Trixie alone in an empty diner.


	2. Day 02: Measurements weigh-ins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which Stiles and Lydia see who makes the freshmen 15 first!

It had been months since since Stiles and Lydia had graduated high school and started their university careers. Since starting in the fall they had been restricted to seeing one another every other weekend; it was torture.

That being said, it wouldn’t stop them from Skyping or video calling each other on a nightly basis. You see ,they had this little competition going on, who would gain the supposed ‘freshmen fifteen’ first. Whoever did would have to do whatever the other wanted for Spring break, no complaints and no questions asked. Lydia figures it’ll be a cakewalk for her, Stiles will have to listen to her suggestion of a Miami spring break, there’s no way she’s gaining more weight let along 15 pounds.

So they scheduled weekly measurements while Skyping and bi-weekly weigh ins when they visited each other, (after having a bit of fun together, of course).

Now with Stiles and Lydia both being rather competitive personalities, they certainly tried to one up each other and ensure the other would be the one putting on the pounds. It made things interesting.

Stiles would send Lydia chocolates, edible arrangements and care packages of all her favourite sweets that she purposely put limits on herself. While Lydia plied on Stiles’ relationship with Scott and ensured that whenever Scott went to visit Stiles, he would bring all of his favourite treats and take him to all his favourite restaurants, fully funded by none other than herself.

After the first 2 weeks they had discovered that though Stiles’ measurements had increased more than Lydia’s, Lydia had gained about 1 1/2 more pounds than Stiles had managed to at his measly 1/2 pound gain. 

“Damn you and your metabolism…you know Im not going to eat anymore of those chocolates you send me…” 

Stiles laughs a bit at that “Hey I mean I got those for you out of love! It totally had nothing to do with this!” 

“uh huh…sure, Stilinski…I promise you, I am going to win this bet. Now come on…you're going to help me burn off some of the calories I’ve consumed this week” she smirked and dragged her boyfriend off to her bedroom 

“You know…I have no complaints about this…but you’re wrong about whose gonna win this!”

After 4 weeks went by and they passed the second weigh in, and two more measurement sessions with one another Lydia had discovered that she had gained at least 2 inches on her ass! her skirts had become a little more indecent than usual, but Stiles was so not complaining when she would put them on for him 

“Damn….I have the most beautiful girlfriend” Stiles grins and makes grabby hands for her before she rolls her eyes 

“uh-uh…on the scale mister, lets just see who really had the most damage done this time” 

Stiles pouts but climbs up onto the scale to see an increase of 2 pounds. 

“huh…well whatever…whats two pounds? not even close to fifteen pounds so I am all good” 

Lydia smirks in accomplishment at that because she had only managed to gain 1/2 a pound in the last two weeks! 

“now c’mere…I wanna get my hands all over that sexy ass of yours”.

6 weeks now since they started their classes, needless to say both Stiles and Lydia had noticed some changes in not only themselves…but each other too, and they had to admit, they kinda liked these changes. 

Lydia drove up to meet Stiles in his dorm for their weigh in, bringing his favourite donuts and a triple chocolate and oreo shake for him from his favourite fast food joint. 

Lydia already took her measurements and was pleased to say any weight she had gained went straight to her ass and her chest, to which she couldn’t complain too much right? 

Stiles answered the door with a huge grin on his face and the smell of pizza wafting into the hall, from Lydia’s favourite pizza joint in the area. 

“Hey there handsome…I brought you some treats,” Lydia smiled waving the shake before Stiles.

Stiles kisses her softly and helps her inside “I have some treats for you too babe. Shall we eat first then weigh in?” 

Lydia shakes her head “Fine, this is the only time I will agree to that because nobody likes cold pizza.”

Stiles grins and takes his shake after handing Lydia her plate of 3 slices of her stuffed crust pizza. 

When they get to the weigh in, it’s hardly a surprise that they’ve both put on weight; Stiles 5 pounds and Lydia 3.5. 

Of course stiles commented on the new found curves he found in his girlfriend. Shes now gained 4 inches in her bust alone!

8 weeks with Halloween just finishing up earlier in the week, all the left over candy and Halloween parties Stiles and Lydia were able to attend to, not to mention all of the alcohol they have a hangover cure breakfast together before weighing each other seem to have left an impact. 

Stiles teases Lydia by placing his foot on the scale to make it go well over 200 before she swats him across the chest in retaliation. 

“not funny! Anyways...I gained 3 pounds...” she pouts. 

Stiles is in a similar boat as he has found that his pants no longer fit, because his ass has managed to get so big that he’s now split at least two pairs of his jeans, so he’s stuck to a few pairs of larger dress pants for school. 

“It’s a little funny” and he goes to step on the scale now “damn...how in the hell have I gained another 4 pounds?” 

Lydia smirks because she’s positive she’s got him beat here! “Too much candy for you!”

10 weeks now and Stiles had a few class cancellations so he was able to spend the entire week with Lydia and cook for her during that time as well.

Lydia comes back from turning in a paper she had an extension on to see Stiles had made homemade Mac and cheese and brownies 

“what’s all this? You know I wanted to start dieting Stiles..” 

“But I never get to cook for you so I wanted to make your favourites! Come on you don’t need to diet at all I measured more than you last weigh in. Remember?” 

Lydia purses her lips but nods “fine...but only because I know you’re a good cook and I’m not wasting good food” they skip the weigh in that day, because they ate so much they ended up in a food coma.

12 weeks now and with Thanksgiving having passed and being into the holiday season now, these two have relaxed more in regards to their eating habits. 

They have taken this more as a challenge as to who can gain the fifteen pounds first now, they have decided that they enjoy the new found forms they’ve both developed. They’ve both filled out nicely and like exploring every new inch. 

When they meet up for their weigh ins they are both so excited this time. Stiles goes first, he ends up being a full 7 pounds up from the last weigh in four weeks ago making a total of 18 1/2 pound gain in twelve weeks of school.

“holy crap...well okay I mean I guess that means you won huh? I hit over the fifteen pounds.” 

Lydia steps on the scale next, looking to the numbers on the scale she sees that she’s up a whole 9 pounds from last weigh in “well...I’m 15 on the dot...I gained nine pounds in four weeks...this is why your cooking is dangerous “ she smirks

“that means we have to compromise for spring break.” Stiles chirps in 

“that’s fine by me handsome. Why don’t you show me what you think of this nine pound increase?”


	3. Day 03: Chubs + sports / gym

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein stiles learns losing his lacrosse scholarship wasn’t a stroke of bad luck after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The pairing you never knew you needed until now. If you want more on the background for these two just message.

When Stiles first met James, he was an aspiring college student riding a lacrosse scholarship to cover tuition costs, and he was still short on funds for books. It was purely luck to have met the vampire at a coffee shop of all places. Stiles is dead on his feet working his third double in a row this week when James the cute police officer comes in for his second coffee.  
   
He looks like crap, he knows it, and yet James still smiles at him and tips 10 dollars when he leaves. It isn’t until they’re counting tips that Stiles even notices the small paper with a number scrawled in neat print and the name James Bishop.  
   
It’s the highlight of Stiles’ day, surely he must have more game than he previously believed. It only gets better when James asks him on a date that weekend.  
   
And Stiles would love to go, but lacrosse season is starting up so he asks James to join him after the game. It seems like a good idea, and probably would be if not for the fact that that midway through the second period a hip check sends him smacking into the ground hard enough to be carted to the back by the trainer.  
   
The date should end up a bust, but James, ever the gentleman, turns it into a positive by spending the night next to Stiles in the ER. He tries his best to distract him from the bad news; torn ACL and concussion, and for the most part he’s successful.  
   
It isn’t until after they get the clearance to be released that it sinks in for Stiles that he is well and truly fucked and not like some harlequin paperback. The season had barely started and the one thing keeping him afloat with tuition has now effectively been revoked.  
   
He’s two seconds away from a complete anxiety meltdown when James places a hand on his shoulder and in the most calming voice ever says “let me be your beneficiary.”  
   
Stiles thinks James must be a bit crazy. He knows cops don’t make nearly enough to do such a thing. Besides they barely know each other, and surely a loan like that comes with some serious strings and conditions.  
   
James just smiles and says all the payment he needs is Stiles to finish his degree. The money isn’t an issue; he’s got a big inheritance and no family to speak of to share with; really paying for tuition is no problem at all.  
   
The offer seems far too good to be true, but Stiles reasons that sometimes really good things do happen for people, so maybe it’s finally his turn for a miracle.   
   
“You’ve got yourself a deal, James.”  
   
“Besides, you’ll need someone to watch over you during your rehabilitation.”  
   
And fuck, in all the panic Stiles had nearly forgotten all about the surgery and long road to rehabbing his knee. The next few months were sure to be a bitch.  
   
**6 weeks pre-surgery**  
   
Stiles truly owes James for life at this point, not only did he cover tuition but he’d gotten his professors to allow him to switch to online classes.  
   
A week of ice packs and elevation had lowered the swelling of his knee enough that he was cleared to start his pre-hab. Sure Stiles logically knows the benefits of building up his knee prior to surgery, but that doesn’t mean he enjoys hauling himself, crutches and all, to PT to do a slew of knee building exercises that leave him feeling embarrassingly out of shape and sweaty to boot.  
   
James comes with him though, drops him off and afterwards takes him out for food. He says they can keep it strictly friendly until Stiles is ready for more; he’s a gentleman like that.  
   
Stiles is just glad that James doesn’t mind picking up the bill. Since his injury he had to quit his barista job, and really these friend dates beat hobbling down to the university cafeteria and starting the whole balancing act of tray versus crutches solo.  
   
Besides James is attractive and he’s genuinely nice company which Stiles has been sorely missing since leaving Beacon Hills.  
   
**3 weeks pre-surgery**  
   
Stiles feels like this PT is getting him nowhere; unless you count it as a sure fire way to be humiliated in front of your sort of boyfriend. The doctors seem to think it’s doing some good because they’re eager to set a surgery date.  
   
They have him penciled in for 3 weeks from Thursday and now that there’s an actual date stiles is feeling nervous as hell. The silver lining is that James has been spending more time over at the apartment and while they haven’t kissed just yet they’ve cuddled quite a bit.  
   
Honestly Stiles is ready to be on the road to recovery so he can go on an actual date and not have to worry about hobbling around on crutches. Logically he knows the surgery recoup will take time but he’s been told the outlook is promising. He’s tired of being the awkward guy in crutches, not that he was Mr. Suave beforehand, but they did put a serious damper on his ability to be semi-smooth.  
   
**Surgery day**  
   
Stiles would be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous, honestly he was fucking terrified. He had never had surgery and while they’d assured him it was routine and he would be fine, a small nagging voice kept telling him that he was well and truly fucked. James wasn’t an asshole, he had been so supportive these past few weeks, but Stiles was still a bit worried about the future.  
   
What if James didn’t want him when he wasn’t as needy anymore? Or worse what if the surgery went bad and James got sick of looking after him and quit being his beneficiary and boyfriend. Fuck. It was a really terrible thing to wonder about when being prepped for surgery.  
   
“Hey, you okay...? Kind of spaced on me,” James murmurs brushing Stiles’ hair from his forehead.  
   
“Yeah, I was just thinking,” Stiles murmurs forcing a faint smile as he looks up at James.  
   
“I thought I smelt wood burning,” James teases with a wink and it takes everything in Stiles’ power not to swoon.  
   
“Oh hush...I was just thinking of how helpless I’m going to be the next few weeks after surgery. You know they said I’ll be laid up at least two weeks and even then I might not get to start rehab until I hit the four week mark. I’m gonna be a lousy bum of a boyfriend, you’ll prolly get tired of doting on me,” Stiles rambles rubbing the back of his neck nervously.  
   
James frowns slightly at that comment taking a moment to look Stiles over. “I know it’s hard to believe, but I do care for you, and I don’t care if it’s two weeks or two months, or whatever spent doting on you I’m not going anywhere.” As if to prove his point James moves to rest his hands on either side of Stiles on the hospital bed as he levels him with a stare; his eyes flicker down to Stiles lips momentarily before he leans in to press a chaste kiss on the corner of Stiles’ mouth.   
   
“I’m in this for the long haul,” James murmurs pulling back to look over Stiles’ face. “Understood?”  
   
Stiles wets his lips and nods a bit dazed, “yea, of course, understood.”  
   
It’s quiet for all of 15 seconds before Stiles gains enough sensibility to pose a question.  
   
“So...is another kiss out of the question right now? I mean I am about to have major knee surgery and all, boyfriend kisses would be fantastic,” he grins trying to look innocent and missing wide by miles.  
   
James smirks but moves to sit on the edge of the hospital bed as he nods. “Oh I think that can be arranged.”  
   
Stiles loses track of time spent kissing James, but the anesthesiologist seems to return way too quickly to get Stiles ready for surgery.  
   
If asked later Stiles will blame it on the anesthesia for his babbling to the nurses of how skilled his boyfriend was at kissing.  
   
(“Like heavens opening and stars colliding amazing; seriously I felt the earth move”)  
   
**1 week post-surgery**  
   
If Stiles thought he was helpless prior to surgery, this week had been a rude awakening. About the only good thing to come from this bed rest bullshit was James had taken vacation to wait on him.  
   
And boy did James know how to wait on him. He had never been so spoiled before in his life. The week had been an endless stream of his favorite foods and they’d started movie marathons to pass the time. They’d started with Star Wars and had graduated to Marvel and were just starting Age of Ultron.  
   
It had been complete and utter bliss. The only complain he had was the awkward hobble to use the bathroom and the weird bloated feeling he felt by the week’s end from his atrocious eating habits.  
   
Of course a week of takeout was bound to do that to one’s body. Stiles had always been a liberal eater when it came to junk, but without his usual antics and since he traded his ADHD meds for pain killers, he hadn’t done any favors to his metabolism.  
   
It’s mostly water weight he argues, from all the salty foods he’s been imbibing in, but he swears this week he’s gained 5 pounds. It’s likely an exaggeration, the bloat is probably from his around the clock snacking, yes, but he doubts he’s managed to seriously eat himself up 5 pounds.  
   
Besides, it’s kind of hard to turn down treats when James is constantly offering him goodies. And so what if he softens a little right now, he will have PT soon enough, he should enjoy this break while he can.  
   
James doesn’t seem to mind the way his belly looks perpetually bloated these days, so Stiles doesn’t really care either. If his super sexy boyfriend is on board with his eating habits and actually I indulging him then he’s going to enjoy this three week semi vacation while he can.  
   
**3 weeks post-surgery**  
   
Today had been his three week check up to see about setting up PT, and lord had it been a trying day.   
   
Pretty much from the second he walked into the exam room, Stiles had felt like he was being judged. It only got worse when Dr. Burke had stopped why of reading him the riot act going over his chart.  
   
In three weeks Stiles had somehow managed to gain 18 pounds, and sure he was in normal BMI range, but just barely according to the chart. Dr. Burke had chastised him that any extra weight gained would only make PT more strenuous as well as bouncing back to an active lifestyle.  
   
The most humiliating part was James was in the room with him while he got lectured on gaining quickly and how bad habits could lead to a life of obesity. The cherry on top of this fucked up sundae being the horribly gaudy looking pamphlets he was given at the end proclaiming ‘tips for weight management’.  
   
Honestly he hadn’t thought he looked bad. Since he was little he had always been the lanky kid they worried was underweight, the Nogitsune hadn’t done him any favors. He had been left feeling so hollow, skin stretched right across bone, and oh so fragile in the aftermath. College had found him putting on muscle for lacrosse and sitting pretty at 155 and feeling good. Today though seeing 173 as it flashed on the scale in front of him with the slight tsk sound as it was recorded in his chart? Yea he felt embarrassed, but worse still he’d had a thrill of heat in his belly that felt satisfied for the first time in a very long while.  
   
“You’re not fat,” James had said the second they left the office. “Not even remotely so...honestly you look good”  
   
Stiles had just offered a small smile and shrug as he waited on crutches for the elevator. “Yea well according to the chart I’m 5 pounds from overweight. Besides you don’t have to be nice, James, I know I’ve gained some weight...these jeans are digging into my hips and I know breakfast isn’t completely to blame for the way my shirt is fitting this snug.”  
   
James wet his lips holding the door open for Stiles to get on the elevator. “Yea well I happen to like the way you look...for what it’s worth. Obviously if you want to try those pamphlets I will help, but I mean I’m not leaving over a few pounds.”  
   
“18 pounds is hardly a few...”  
   
“I mean it Stiles, I’m not going anywhere.”  
   
“Noted,” Stiles murmurs and that should be the end of it all really. He should be formulating diet plans and be thinking about PT schedules, but that fiery feeling is back and it’s accompanied by a curl of pleasure he can’t shake.  
   
He’s five pounds from overweight by medical standards and fuck if he doesn’t want to cross that threshold. If he’s honest he knew he was gaining even before the scale flashed 173 in his face. But honestly he doesn’t really care.  
   
His weight has been set by a slew of ADHD meds and running from the monster of the week. With James he doesn’t like being medicated with Ritalin, besides he doesn’t need to because James always has his attention. And since leaving Beacon Hills, the monsters are a problem of the past.   
   
So the 18 pounds gained feel less like a dangerous step towards binge eating and more like blessed relief of normalcy. Stiles is sure he could probably qualify for having eating issues, he’s never been the best with managing food, but he feels safe and happy and James not being bothered is just an extra bonus.  
   
“What are you thinking about,” James asks once they’re both buckled in the car.  
   
“Huh?”  
   
“Oh come on, I’d recognize that scent of burning wood anywhere,” James teases looking at Stiles before starting the vehicle.  
   
“Very funny, haha,” Stiles sticks his tongue out to punctuate his point. “If you must know I was thinking about those pamphlets—“  
   
“Babe I told you you’re not overweight, I don’t care what the chart says.”  
   
“No you’re right, I’m not overweight; not yet anyway.”  
   
James arches a brow at the phrasing but stays quiet sensing Stiles isn’t quite finished yet.  
   
“I know Dr. Burke is worried my little post-surgery splurge is a gateway for a slew of disordered eating leading to obesity, but god help me the only thing I could focus on when she was lecturing me was how I wanted that number to be higher. I wanted to hit that 25.0 BMI mark, wanted her lecturing me on what a disappointment it was for a young athletic man to turn into another overweight post jock statistic.”  
   
Stiles goes quiet looking at his hands in his lap, but James dares not speak afraid to break the fragile balance of sharing going on before Stiles completely clams up again.  
   
“James these past three weeks have been amazing, and I’ve loved being with you and how you spoil me, and I...I don’t want to stop this; any of it really. I like what we have, and I like the spoiling, and god help me I like knowing each day I’m getting a little softer, and that’s pretty fucked up isn’t it?”  
   
James puts the car I to park at a corner store so he can face Stiles before answering. “I was serious when I said I loved you and all this...I think the softness is nice, and if you wish to pursue it more I’m going to be here to support you and spoil you rotten.”  
   
Stiles feels the corners of his lips tug up in a small grateful smile listening to James talk.  
   
“Fuck Dr. Burke and that stupid pamphlet. We will get you through PT and back to walking, but we don’t have to stop this if you don’t want to okay?”  
   
Nodding in agreement Stiles surges forward in the car to kiss James senseless. He really does have the best boyfriend in the world.  
   
**1 year post surgery**  
   
It’s hard to believe that a little over a year ago Stiles was on a lacrosse scholarship. To say things had changed since his ACL injury would be an understatement.   
   
James had been true to his word about sticking by Stiles’ side and doting on him through recovery and beyond. And boy did the results of being spoiled rotten really show on Stiles’ frame.  
   
Sure PT had kept him busy exercising to strengthen his knee, and he had taken the rehab process seriously, but while he had still been cleared, he had done so weighing an additional 9 pounds from his 3 week checkup.  
   
It was official, at 182 pounds Stiles was officially considered medically overweight; and he fucking loved the hint of disapproval Dr. Burke had when she reminded him that exercise was important moving forward recovering from such an injury. Stiles couldn’t give a damn about that he was just trying to run numbers of how much he could move that scale for his year checkup, because boy did he have plans.  
   
With James’ help it was quite easy to find a rhythm for this newfound indulgence. He was diligent about keeping up his knee strengthen exercises, but otherwise he had taken the opportunity to dive headfirst into college indulgence.   
   
Now a year had passed since his surgery, 49 weeks since gaining 18 pounds and confessing to James, 37 weeks since he’d officially finished PT and managed to find an additional 9 pounds; frankly he’s managed to find even more in the weeks following.  
   
The only thing he hates about this new lifestyle is his clothes don’t seem to last like they used to before. Huffing he tugs at the button on his jeans attempting to suck it in a little more. He knows it’s a lost cause; they were tight before he had absolutely glutted himself at IHOP trying to break his personal record for pancakes eaten.  
   
He’d shattered his record managing to get down 24 pancakes, each slathered in a liberal amount of butter and drenched in syrup with a side of what likely amounted to a pound of bacon for balance. He paid for it too, waddling out to the car he felt like he was one bite from popping he was so stuffed. And that was before the gut buster lunch James had planned for them. Why he thought eating an entire extra-large meat lovers pizza with extra cheese along with a 2L of Pepsi and cinnastix had been a good idea was beyond him.  
   
The point being that his jeans hadn’t stood a chance of buttoning with the amount of food he’d stuffed into his poor belly today. Overindulgence aside, they had been snug before his binge.  
   
Hell everything had been getting so snug lately, but Stiles supposed that’s only natural when you manage to pile on 35 pounds in 37 weeks, at least according to Dr. Burke’s scale that’s the current damage. At 217 he’s managed to eat himself out of medically overweight and into the obese category.  
   
217 finds him soft all over. His cheeks are full, chin hinting at a double, arms covered in a thick layer of pudge. Hell even his chest has softened, the prettiest tits he’s seen, James had proclaimed fondling them as he’d pressed up against Stiles. His belly of course has taken the brunt of his growth, love handles forever present no matter what cut on his pants. The way his belly pushes against his shirt these days, a bare inch present after a day of eating. The pink angry stretch marks spanning either side of his belly button. The real shocker is how much his bottom half has exploded with the 35 pounds. His thighs are constantly touching these days and the way his hips have widened its honestly a miracle he got the jeans up as far as he had, then again the real test was getting over the swell of his ass.   
   
When it’s all said and done Stiles had escaped the freshmen 15, but only to pick up the sophomore 60. And god does he feel good, even if his jeans are in a constant state of wear and tear be it from thighs rubbing or popped buttons and seams, he really wouldn’t trade it for the world.  
   
“Another pair of jeans bites the dust?”  
   
“Fuck, you need a bell,” Stiles gasps sitting up to look at his smug boyfriend who’s holding the most monstrous looking sundae he’s ever seen in his life.  
   
“Apologies, can I make it up to you?” James asks, going for innocent as he holds up the sundae in a peace offering, whilst making his way to the bed.   
   
“Enabler,” Stiles smirks shaking his head.  
   
“You love it,” James grins straddling Stiles lap and pressing a heaping spoonful of ice cream to the younger boy’s lips.  
   
Really, Stiles can’t argue with James because God help him, he loves every second of this


	4. Day 04: Trying on old clothes / button popping / seam ripping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which Stiles enables Derek to relax and eat enough to pop some buttons

It has been a few weeks since Derek had taken up baking for Stiles. It gave him something to do while Stiles was in school.

Stiles would come home every day to a new treat from Derek; cookies to cupcakes, Macaroons to Ice cream sandwiches, the list was never-ending. 

Derek really enjoyed spoiling Stiles with all of these new treats, always working on new recipes for him. Of course with weeks going by of sampling all of these new desserts, Stiles had started developing a new fuller figure. 

His clothes seemed to fit just a bit more snug, shirts clinging to his now softening midsection, jeans encasing his legs like sausage wrappings. With the added girth, Stiles had noticed his shirts seemed to shrink as well. Derek of course waved off the idea of Stiles gaining weight suggesting it was an accidental mishap in the laundry and that they could easily be stretched out. 

Honestly Derek enjoyed the view of Stiles’ snail trail just being visible thanks to his shirts riding up. Not to mention the cute little chub that had developed along Stiles’ midsection. 

A few months in to this little treat/reward system Derek had built up to keep himself busy and Stiles spoiled, they had been invited to Lydia’s formal Christmas party.

Christmas seemed to pop up right around the corner and Stiles in his infinite wisdom decided to bring out his tux from Prom, because why buy a new one when you have a perfectly good one that doesn’t cost anything more in the back of the closet?

Stiles assumed all was good with this plan, after all he managed to get the darn thing on and it fit; mostly. Of course it took a lot of added effort and extra time to do so, and sure he was quite winded by the process. And Sure they got stuck against his thighs and ass for a solid ten minutes…but dammit he got the pants up and managed to suck in enough to do up the button too! 

He would’ve gotten the shirt buttoned up too if it weren’t for Derek walking in on him with those glorious Whiskey Vanilla bean cupcakes in his hand for Stiles to taste test. Derek who had been more than happy to try and feed the cupcakes to Stiles while he continued to fight with the buttons of his shirt. 

Stiles moaned at the glorious taste and even went as far as licking Derek’s finger clean.

They continued on in that fashion, Derek steadily feeding Stiles cupcake after cupcake as the younger boy wrestled his buttons through the corresponding holes. Really Stiles vaguely knew he wasn’t helping his cause, each button taking longer to force shut, but those cupcakes were simply divine. He’d eat two entire batches if Derek allowed him the luxury; he’s sure of it.

It’s didn’t take long for Derek to be down to the last cupcake. The way Stiles has powered through it was a miracle they’d lasted as long as they had. Derek steps back to admire his handiwork, take in his Stiles’ shirt is clearly straining against his bloated middle. He did that, fed that lanky 147 pound boy to the man before him.

Just as Stiles finishes the last button on his shirt, the last cupcakes is gone too; the buttons at the apex of his belly have had enough and when he exhales, triumphant to have succeeded in fastening the buttons, the material gives way. Really, the poor button never stood a chance. 

Tiny plastic shoots its way across the room pinging against the floor leaving stiles blushing profusely as his hand rest where the shirt now gapes exposing his flabby middle. 

“Well look at you,” Derek murmurs taking in Stiles’ form before bending to pick up the discarded button. “I’m so proud of you babe; eating your way through your old clothes.”

Stiles skin burns scarlet but he feels a thrill of pride at Derek’s words. “Guess i need a new suit...”

Derek smirks moving closer for a kiss, “yea big guy, definitely.”


	5. Day 05: Better kink through technology aka phones / vids / cam / pics / texts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lady Loki knows how to get Steve hot under his collar.

Steve is sat in yet another boring meeting with the PR team begging for some sort of crisis to give him the window to leave this hellish boardroom he desperately needs. And yea it’s dickish to pray for a super villain attack, but if he listens to one more monotone spiel about public imagine he may go rogue himself. Hail Hydra indeed.

Blessedly he gets some relief in the form of his phone lighting up as a new text message filters through. Of course what seems like a blessing quickly devolves into a nightmare when Steve opens the message.

When he glances at the message he can’t help the way his entire face heats up and his brows rise in shock. He slams his phone face down entirely too hard in his race to hide the image. The resulting clatter echoes through the otherwise quiet boardroom drawing a few stares his way.

Fuck.

“Sorry,” Steve manages a sheepish smile and the rest of the team pretty much dismisses the entire incident. 

It’s a relief he had managed to get the phone face down, because while the team had finally come to terms with the idea of golden boy Steve Rogers being in a relationship with reformed villain Loki, he didn’t think they would care to have insight on their relationship’s quirky kinks. Well, Tony was probably interested, the deviant that he was, but Steve was exactly keen on sharing those intimate details.

Steve waited another two minutes before he bothered to flip the phone over for another quick peek. He must have been a glutton for punishment or perhaps Tony wasn’t the only deviant sat at the table after all; either way, he was glad he was sitting towards the back of the table this meeting. His seating afforded him a little extra cover to check his messages and see what other pictures Loki had deemed appropriate to send.

‘Thinking of you....’

The text seemed innocent enough, but the attached picture was far from. Sat in the middle of the bed was Loki in a very revealing off the shoulder crop top emblazoned with the words ‘feed me and tell me I’m pretty’ that left little to the imagination and a pair of green lace panties that looked practically painted on whilst holding a large slice of pizza.

See the thing was Steve had a thing for full figures partners and the second Loki had found out they’d been incredibly understanding and ready to participate. So much so that a mere three months into their experiment the goddess had plumped up considerably; 35 pounds considerable to be exact. 

Her breasts were no longer pert handfuls but rather spilled over the tops of all her bras, when she actually bothered to put one on of course. The never-ending series of crop tops she had taken to wearing as of late only served to highlight the way the smooth planes of her abdomen had taken to curving outwards spilling over into generous love-handles perfect for groping. Impressive cleavage and pudgy belly aside, the part Steve was more interested in was the way her hips had seemed to take the brunt of the gain. 

The way her hips had taken to flaring outwards or how her thighs touched all the way down now, or perhaps how her ass had swelled up so considerably the tights she had taken to wearing while lounging around the house shown sheer with how they are being stretched these days. In short Loki’s dimensions called for a radical rewrite of the term hourglass figure.

Wetting his lips, Steve scrolled through the array of pictures Loki had sent him of her mid-morning pizza binge. There’s several of her eating, a few risqué of her touching herself—cheeks full of pizza, sauce on her chin—one of her belly bloated enough that it surges out into her lap, and of course the last shot of a stack of empty boxes, an extra-large pizza, and a full order of cheesy bread from what Steve can see, and fuck if it isn’t the hottest thing he’s ever seen.  

Of course that’s when his phone starts ringing with the most obnoxious hip-hop song ever proclaiming ‘me so horny’ signaling a FaceTime call, and once again all eyes are on him. He’s thankful the lights are still out for the presentation, because his cheeks are burning with how pink they’re showing. And to think he left the ice to die of embarrassment. God he really hates Tony for messing with his phone.

“Sounds important Capsicle,” Tony smirks earning a snort from Clint as the team all looks on at the ever reddening Captain.

“Sorry, I need to take this,” Steve mumbles grabbing his phone and heading for the door before the PR team can object.

“Tell Loki we say hello,” Tony sing-songs before Thor twacks him on the back of the head mumbling something of showing respect.

Steve powerwalks his way to the nearest open door, which happens to be a storage closet at the end of the hall, blessedly the phone is still ringing when he shuts the door. Once he’s situated with his back blocking the door, he answers the call and promptly thanks every deity he knows that he’s alone for this call.

“Steven, I need you…feel so full,” Loki whines from her spot sprawled out on the bed. “Need your hands on me, feel like I’m gonna pop, gods you’re making me so fat…”

“Sweetheart, you know I have a meeting…god, you’re driving me crazy…those pictures? You’ve been such a piggy haven’t you baby?” 

Loki moans softly, and it’s then that Steve realizes she’s playing with herself. He’s almost certain that his brain short circuits with that knowledge, it leaves his mouth bone dry and mind dazed in a heady rush of want as his blood rushes south.

“Been such a pig lately, can’t help stuffing my face baby…so full and I still want more.” 

Wetting his lips, Steve finally manages to get his brain back online, “Always so greedy sweetheart, my little gluttonous princess, isn’t that right? Stuffed to the gills and I bet you’d still let me feed you a quart of rocky road, wouldn’t you sweetheart? Leave you panting from how full you were, squirming to find some sort of relief, but only good girls get belly rubs isn’t that right Lo? Are you going to be a good girl for me?” 

Loki is whining softly, hips rocking up against her fingers as she nods in assent. “Yes Steven, wanna be a good girl for you, be your best girl,” she manages, breath hitching as she works a finger inside herself.

“Then stop touching yourself sweetheart, I’m on my way upstairs okay?”

Loki sounds frustrated but to her credit she does stop. “You had better hurry up, Steven, a girl can’t wait forever.”

Steve smirks at that reaching for the door handle, “I’ve got to stop at the kitchen first sweetheart; you’re looking peckish.”

Loki smirks resting her free hand on her still bloated abdomen, making a point to tap her fingers atop the crest of her belly resulting in a drum like cadence. “Don’t forget the chocolate syrup this time sweetheart.”

Once the screen goes black with the call ending, Steve double-times it to the kitchen in search of supplies. It may not have been the disaster he was hoping for, but he’ll take a feeding session with his incredibly gorgeous and perpetually horny girlfriend over a stupid PR meeting any day. 


	6. Day 06. Focus on body part other than bellies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer Doting on Gadreel and greatly enjoying his assets ;)

Lucifer was at home cooking up a storm for when Gadreel returns home from his job as a guard at the local museum. She had taken to spoiling her boyfriend while he works, she wanted to make sure he was taken care of and was well fed after his long hard days at work. 

Plus she couldn’t deny that she loved how he had been filling out lately, especially in the ass; he just had a perfect bubble butt now. And that was her doing! 

She wanted to make sure nothing would change that. She prided herself in the treatment of her lover and boyfriend. She always took care of her partners, and made sure they enjoyed themselves as much as she enjoyed them.

When Lucifer realized that when Gadreel gained weight, it seemed to sit around his ass and thighs, she couldn’t help herself. She had planned out a whole new menu for the coming weeks to be able to watch that ass fill out even more, if possible.

So Luce had set herself on a mission and she had taken to a lot of holiday baking and feeding up her boyfriend, hell she practically had him trained by now. 

As soon as he would walk through those doors after a long day at work, he would be hungry and salivating at the scent of the dinner Lucifer had prepared. Luce would have a large plate fully stocked with a carb and protein heavy meal for him to stuff his face as she distracted him with kisses. 

If that wasn’t enough? She would sit in his lap and feed him seconds before he was allowed to have any dessert.

Sure he had gained in places other than his ass...but damn that perky tush was even more glorious as it got larger with him. And of course Luce was sure to make sure he knew just how much she loved it. She spoiled that man rotten and wasn’t the least bit ashamed...because she got something out of it too.

Gad was oblivious for the first few weeks, I mean until he went to pick up the fork he dropped on the way to the dishwasher, and his pants split right down the seam on his ass. Then it was a little bit harder to ignore the signs that he had been gaining weight.

Lucifer watched the entire scene play out...her handiwork...did that. Damn she was pleased with herself. And of course Gadreel couldn’t be embarrassed too long...not when Lucifer pounced him the second she managed to pick her jaw up off the floor.

Yeah...they’d both be just fine with all of this. Gadreel had the best damn ass Lucifer had ever seen, and she made sure he knew just how she felt about it.

“That’s it baby...I’ll bet you can finish off this whole cheesecake for me...maybe I’ll even ride you while you eat it. You stop eating and I stop, got it?” Gadreel nodded dumbly, getting rewarded to eat something that tastes so good? Of course he’s up for that.

It only took three weeks for Gadreel to go up 3 pant sizes (really only two for the waist, but that ass needed some extra room), and Lucifer couldn’t be more pleased with her work. She couldn’t keep her hands off the younger angel honestly.

“Do you think the others will notice the weight I’ve put on?” Gadreel murmured curiously, a little worried as well. 

Lucifer responded by grabbing a nice chunk of his ass in her hands and squeezes it “you’re all mine baby...who cares what anyone else thinks? I think you look perfect...and for a fact, I absolutely adore this gorgeous form you’ve taken on. I think it gives more of you for me to enjoy and love.”

Gadreel smiles at that. Yeah...they were gonna have some fun with this.


	7. Day 07: Werewolf senses aka hearing / smell / strength, etc.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles trying to Surprise Derek with breakfast, but that keen werewolf nose spoils the surprise!

Derek woke to an incredible scent filling his nostrils and the sound of clanging pots filtering into the room. It only took him a few sniffs to determine what was being cooked: bacon — hickory smoked no doubt, waffles with fresh blueberry, and French toast. Derek smirked savoring the tantalizing smells; Stiles truly was spoiling him. 

Moving quickly to get out of bed, Derek made his way to the kitchen to check on Stiles. Oblivious to the approaching wolf, Stiles is absorbed in cooking up a storm while sipping his coffee.

“I’m not sure you and coffee is a good mix?” Derek murmured leaning up against the counter behind Stiles startling him. 

“Holy crap,” Stiles practically shrieks in his panic nearly spilling his coffee all over the place. “Jesus, Derek...I told you to stop sneaking up on me! Why are you even up? I was trying to make you breakfast in bed...”

Derek smiled faintly at that surveying the mess of the kitchen. “Well, you haven’t exactly been subtle. Not only could I hear you clanging around in here, but I can smell it too,” he says pointing at his nose.

“Ah yes heightened doggy nose,” Stiles rolls his eyes. “Still, you’re ruining my surprise.”

Derek pushes off the counter moving to wrap his arms around Stiles’ waist to tug him into a kiss. “I still appreciate the thought...and honestly, it smells amazing”

Stiles eagerly cuddles in against Derek, more than happy to return the kiss. “Well I wasn’t sure what you’d want to eat so I panicked and made a lot of options...so I mean I hope you’re hungry?” 

Stiles works on turning off the frying pans and looks up to Derek a bit sheepish considering he’s single-handedly cooked enough to feed the entire pack versus a two person breakfast.

“That’s a lot of food Stiles...I’m fairly certain with the both of us we still couldn’t finish it. I mean I wouldn’t know where to start...maybe we should invite the pack over for Brunch,” Derek suggests shifting. Of course it only takes one look at Stiles’ pout for the older boy to start backtracking. “Or we could see what we can manage and pack the rest away for leftovers,” Derek said earning him a bright smile. 

“I like that plan. Now go sit down so I can at least try and serve you like initially planned, and if you’re good I may even feed you myself.” 

Derek smirked at that “oh yeah? Well I’m sure that can be arranged, but if you baby me that’s it”

Stiles snorted at that, “What’s the matter sourwolf? Afraid I will upset your macho masculinity?” 

Derek and his stomach growled simultaneously “Stiles...”

Stiles shook his head and made up a big plate for Derek to enjoy. “Yeah yeah, I know I’m just messing with you big guy.” 

Stiles set a plate stacked high of French toast, chocolate chip pancakes, waffles with blueberries, scrambled eggs and homemade cranberry-orange scones in front of Derek causing the werewolves eyebrows to rise in awe; Stiles had obviously been a very busy bee to ensure Derek had options to choose from. 

It’s a good thing Derek’s werewolf senses heightened everything. Between the delicious wafting smells and the incredible succulent and sweet tastes of everything Stiles had made? He was in absolute heaven. 

Crazy morning wake ups aside Stiles is arguably the best significant other that Derek has had in a very long time.


	8. Day 08 - Rarepair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer learns about Loki's chubby past...and maybe encourages it to make a comeback

Loki and Lucifer had a few very strong asgardian drinks on the night of their anniversary. Between that and the afterglow of their coupling Loki had decided to share a few stories from his past. 

He had explained to Lucifer that he had once been a rather plump child when he was growing. I mean it made sense, he did have a sweet tooth after all. 

What Lucifer hadn’t anticipated was how she now looked over her husband with a very curious nature, trying to figure out just what he may look like with a little extra to him. 

She traced her fingers over his defined and thin torso as she hummed thoughtfully to herself. Mind forming a half baked plan on what to do with this new information.

“Hey darling...you sleep well?” Lucifer murmured as she set the TV tray next to Loki on the bed “I made you breakfast, just how you like it” she smiled as Loki rubbed his eyes and slowly sat up after some encouragement.

“mmm...yes...though morning always seems to come too soon, I’m afraid...” his voice still groggy from sleep and the drinks they had the previous night. 

“Don’t you worry darling, I’ve got you a nice hangover breakfast.” 

Both smiled at each other and Loki sat up and looked to the spread of black coffee, French toast, chocolate chip waffles topped with whipped cream, ice cream and chocolate sauce; bacon and eggs with a protein chocolate shake. 

“Oh beloved...this looks and smells incredible my darling love” 

Lucifer smiles and sits next to Loki “I thought you’d be hungry and I wanted to make some of your favourites” 

Loki smiles and starts with the bacon “you spoil me so, my love” 

Lucifer cuddles up to Loki and starts kissing his neck “think you can finish it all for me? If you do...I’ll make it worth your while” she grinned mischievously and trailed her finger along Loki’s chest as she started kissing his neck. 

Loki grinned and happily eats his food “Well...if you put it that way...then absolutely”.

Lucifer helped herself into Loki’s lap and helped to feed him as she whispered loving words to him, trying to keep him distracted so she can make sure he’s nice and full. 

“You know I booked us a reservation at your favourite Italian place” 

Loki looks up and swallows his mouthful “really? What did I do to deserve such praise and treatment?” 

Lucifer kisses along Loki’s jaw “mmm baby...cant I just take care of my amazing...gorgeous...perfect husband?” 

Loki rests his hands on her hips and smirks. Pulling Lucifer into a kiss “mmm I must’ve been a good boy or something...at least by our standards” He grins and lets Lucifer keep up the attentions.

It’s not long before Loki is rubbing his stomach and his plate is completely clean. “Ugh...I feel stuffed...maybe I overdid it...” 

Lucifer gives Loki a kiss and rubs his belly “nonsense baby...you’re perfect...you did so good and finished all your food for me...”

Lucifer had certainly planned on keeping this up...especially if it was gonna help Loki relax more. She was really excited to see just how much she could get Loki to gain in the coming months.


	9. Day 09: Belly kisses / belly rubs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles is drunk off his ass and feeling extra hands. Derek is just trying to care for his drunken Bambi.

Stiles is well and truly drunk by the time they return to the loft, and really it’s no surprise considering how many margaritas he had indulged in tonight at the pack meeting. Lydia had a tendency to be a little heavy handed in her drinks, and Stiles had been pretty buzzed one drink in, by the time he’d reached number five the world was going sideways and he’d felt so warm and couldn’t help grinning.  
   
He was effectively cut off from pouring number six when he’d fallen back on the split level floor spilling the last half of number five across him and the floor. He’d devolved into giggles at that point that only increased when Derek had hauled him up over his shoulder claiming the party to be over for Stiles and he needed to get him home.  
   
(‘Don’t be sucha sourwolf, itsa party’)  
   
That had been a 45 minutes ago, and windows rolled down and music blaring in the Camaro had done very little to sober Stiles. The late night burger run had helped a little more, but it had created the new issue of needing to detail the Camaro once more from the fries Stiles had sent spilling to the floor when he’d tried to crawl into Derek’s lap.  
   
(‘You needa eat too Der bear, keep you say-satsh-satiated’)  
   
The lift had been an experience in itself, but after a bit of swaying and drunken declarations of wanting to suck Derek off, punctuated by some fumbling gropes, Derek had blessedly gotten Stiles situated inside his loft. “I’m going to get you some water okay, just stand still,” Derek had mumbled trying to get Stiles to focus on him.  
   
Really Derek doesn’t know why he thought that Stiles would ever listen to him; he rarely did so when sober, so why would he now with his inhibitions so lowered? He took the nose boop to be a good sign that Stiles was at least focused on him, even if he was still being a goofball. Against his better judgement, Derek left Stiles propped up against the front door as he went in search of water.  
   
Stiles lasted a solid 15 seconds before he pushed off the door and began stumbling his way to the bedroom. Upon reaching his destination, Stiles promptly face planted in the middle of the mattress; limbs sprawled out as he nuzzled against the mattress.  
   
“You’re going to feel that come morning,” Derek says from his spot against the door jam, glass of water cradled between his hands.  
   
Stiles had neither the energy nor the coordination to move onto his back to look at Derek; instead, he reached a hand backwards to make grabby hands at his boyfriend. His drunken brain just couldn’t seem to comprehend why he was so far away when he was supposed to be here for snuggling.  
   
“Fine, but you’re drinking this entire glass of water before getting any cuddles, okay?”  
   
The grunt in response sounded affirmative, but the way Stiles face was smushed against the bedspread muffled the sound just enough that Derek wasn’t entirely sure. “Stiles, did you hear me,” Derek tried once more moving closer toward the bed so that he was partially kneeling on the edge.  
   
Feeling the bed dip considerably under Derek’s weight, Stiles nodded grunting once more a bit louder this time. “finneeee,” he grumbled shifting his face to look up at Derek, very slowly pushing himself up in a clumsy manner.  
   
“There we go, that’s a good boy,” Derek smirked holding up the glass so that Stiles could use the straw to sip the water.  
   
Eyes rolling, Stiles fumbled with the straw before finally succeeding in securing the plastic between his lips to drink down the water. Stiles drank freely, cool water feeling like relief to his parched mouth; God when had he become so thirsty?  
   
“Careful, go slow….you don’t want to make yourself sick.”  
   
Sighing Stiles did manage to slow his slurping down to a steady pace until he had finished the entire glass. Pulling back slightly he pushed the glass towards Derek, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.  
   
Derek turned to place the glass on the nightstand, and really he should have been keeping his eyes on Stiles. Had he been focused on the younger boy he may have been prepared for the surprise snuggle attack that had been launched.  
   
Stiles was likely aiming for sexy, and under other circumstances where his blood alcohol level wasn’t skewed, he may have succeeded, but right now he just looked like a newborn foal, limbs too long to coordinate, as he crawled his way into Derek’s lap. Fingers brushing across Derek’s considerable belly, Stiles leaned in to nuzzle drunkenly at his boyfriend’s neck.  
   
“Running out of room here big guy,” Stiles slurred pressing open-mouthed kisses to Derek’s softened jawline.  
   
“Stiles,” Derek murmured in warning, fingers of wrapping around the younger boy’s wrists. “You’re drunk.”  
   
“An’ your hot,” Stiles grinned, “So soft too,” he had burbled, fingers stretching out vainly to brush along the swell of Derek’s belly.  
   
Honestly that was an understatement. In the past year and a half that they’d been dating, Derek had softened considerably. His infamous eight-pack was a thing of the past, these days his belly bowed out impressively, stretching out his Henleys, sides lipping over his pants in generous handfuls. All of Derek was soft these days, he looked so relaxed, and really it was a good look for him. Sure Stiles had loved the rigid lines of muscles, but when Derek had started to gain it was like Stiles’ whole world had been flipped upside down.  
   
Derek was hot no matter what, Stiles was a firm believer of that. Model pretty, cheekbones sharp enough to cut your hand on, limbs corded with muscle, broad shoulders and thin waist was gorgeous of course, but this new look of thick thighs and widened hips, and that belly? Yea, Derek looked good in love.  
   
“Wanna touch,” Stiles murmurs fingers still straining to get at that belly. “Please Der, don’t be sucha tease.”  
   
Sighing, Derek begrudgingly lets go of Stiles’ wrist. The triumphant sound of glee emanating from Stiles makes the wolf smile. “You’re incorrigible, you know that?”  
   
“You love me,” Stiles grins, palming Derek’s belly, “that’s why your wolf’s gone soft. Cuz you loooooovvveeee me.”  
   
Well, he wasn’t wrong. His wolf felt safe for the first time in a very long time, and the resulting pounds that had crept onto his waistline was proof enough. He finally felt okay with letting his guard down and settle down in domestic bliss, and his wolf was damn near nesting.  
   
“Yea, I do love you; that’s why I won’t say I told you so come tomorrow when your head is throbbing. Now let’s get some sleep, you can wax poetic on my belly come morning.”  
   
“Spoilsport,” Stiles smirks but allows Derek to push him back against the mattress and manhandle into a sleeping position.  
   
“Mm, perhaps, but you love me,” Derek echoes the sentiment, pressing a kiss to Stiles’ temple.  
   
“Yea I do,” Stiles slurs, hand settling protectively atop Derek’s belly as he stifles a yawn.


	10. Day 10 – sex just sex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve is just trying to help Loki cope with her growing curves

Steve was determined with helping Loki learn to love her growing body. Since they started dating, Loki had put on a few pounds and couldn’t quite figure out what the cause was. 

I mean she was eating no different then she’d always been eating, or so she thought. What she didn’t know was that Steven had played a large part in the fact she had been gaining. 

Steve had his own plans on how he would prove to Loki that she was still gorgeous as ever, if not more so with these new curves.

He had it all planned out. He made sure he was putting weight gainer powder in all her meals to help her curvaceous form keep growing, and leaving snacks all around the house for her to pick at while she was distracted by something else. 

Now as for keeping Loki calm while she was miraculously gaining this added weight? He had a plan for that too...

Loki was in the bathroom when Steve came home. She was standing on the scale with her lips pursed and Steve walked in with a slice of pie he had just picked up from the store 

“hey...what are you doing babe?” 

Loki pouted his way “do I look...fat to you? ...I can’t fit in any of my clothes anymore...my leather pants and skirts are all garbage now...and I look bloated all of the time”. 

Steve just comes up and lifts her up onto the counter to face him, “you’re gorgeous...so damn gorgeous. You’re most certainly not fat. In fact....” he runs his hands up her thighs and to her hips “I think you look perfect...even better than before” he murmurs as he leans in to kiss at her neck and chest before she starts to protest 

“but...o-oh...but I HAVE...gained... haven’t I?”. 

Steve casually ignores that and reaches down to start rubbing Loki through her panties while he marks up her neck. “Shh...it’s okay baby... “ he murmurs and slips a finger inside her, causing a whimper to escape her lips. “That’s it...you’re so beautiful like this...” he murmurs as he mouths at her breasts. Slowly adding a second finger into her, thrusting them eagerly within her as his thumb brushes up against her clit.

Loki moaned and arched back as her legs spread further as she relaxed into his caresses and touches. “fuck, Steve... oh...” Loki moved to tangle her fingers in Steve’s hair and when he removed his fingers she whimpered at the loss. But before she knew it Steve had scooped her up and carried her to their bed.

Laying her down and he climbed between her legs and He kissed at her neck as he made quick work of removing his clothes and started groping at her new found curves. 

“Steve...need you...”, Loki whimpered. 

Steve kissed her hungrily and stroked himself to try and get himself slick enough with Precum so he can slide in easy enough.

Loki’s breath hitched when Steve filled her and she eagerly rocked with his movements. Shivering at the touches and the gropes between the slight rolls forming along her body. Steve took great care of her, fucking her into the mattress, but not without ensuring that he kissed and caressed all over her body. He wanted her to know that he loved seeing her grow like this.

Once they both came Steve held her close in his arms and idly traced his fingers along her lovehandles and belly. 

“I love you...and I know you’re hesitant by all of this...but I think it’s beautiful... I think /you’re / beautiful...and I hope I can show you how much I love this...”. He murmurs as he kisses at her neck. 

Loki all but purrs in response, “I think...I might be able to get into it...if you keep this up”. 

Steve grins “darling...you know I will”.


	11. Day 11: Meeting old friends/family / holidays

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natalie is a bitch of a mom and Lydia finds the perfect way to stick it to her. Stiles is a very willing participant in helping her on the journey.

For as long as Lydia could remember, her mom had been on her about her weight. It was stupid really, she was never fat, not even borderline chubby, but to Natalie the most important thing a girl could do was be thin.   
   
So Lydia went through elementary school learning how to read labels for fat content, coasted through middle school learning all about diet pills and portion control, and the majority of high school counting carbs and drinking her meals more often than not. It was fucking torture living that life and honestly Lydia hated being that popular girl cliché.   
   
It’s not like she had dreams of being fat, or just slightly chubby for that matter, but there was something alluring about that being wrong in her mother’s eyes. She just couldn’t bring herself to actually make the leap, so that what if just built up like a pressure damn until suddenly it just splintered and all that want came crashing forward.  
   
She has Stiles to thank for that flipped switch. Spring break senior year, after years of lying to herself and burying that feeling deep down, she finally took a chance on that brown eyed boy; it was as though they were a perfect match.  
   
Lydia had never gained happy relationship weight since she had first started dating. Now whether that was a result of said relationships not being the happiest of her life, she could not say, because in that moment she had felt happy or at least gone through the motions. With Stiles, it’s different, he was her friend first and perhaps that’s the game changer.  
   
Regardless of the reason, Lydia finds herself up 11 pounds by Prom and another 4 by graduation. It’s odd at first, but what Lydia hadn’t been expecting was the sense of relief she feels seeing the dial settle on 128 the morning of graduation.  
   
She knows part of it is Stiles’ doing. They’ve been spending more time together and as Lydia is quickly finding out her metabolism can’t keep up. Seriously, Stiles has a metabolism unmatched by anyone she’s ever met.  
   
Stiles should by all means be a butterball with all the junk he indulged in; all rounded with soft edges, and yet, 18 years of bad habits had left him with lean muscle and broadened shoulders. Lydia on the other hand had managed to find 15 extra pounds in two and a half months of dating.  
   
She didn’t mind the changes, 15 pounds seemed significant enough for a woman of her stature, and yet she was blessed to gain in all the right places. So yes, her boobs threatened to spill out the tops of most of her bras and she kept bumping her hips on things, misjudging their new curve size, but in all she was happy.  
   
And she could have left it at that if not for the fact that Natalie drove that nail in once more out of spite. Perhaps Natalie had thought she was being cute leaving the book on Lydia’s bed with a note declaring it important reading materials, but Lydia hadn’t appreciated having her make out session with Stiles derailed by a wayward corner from that dreadful book, The Freshman 15 Survival Guide: Tips and Tricks to Survive Your First Year in College Without Gaining the Dreaded 15lbs, stabbing into her side.  
   
That book was like gasoline to an already burning fire.   
   
Lydia could easily blame her summer predicament on spite, but somewhere around 4th of July weekend when she had been tipsy enough to not care that her bikini fit something obscene, she realized that the best constant indulgence was something she enjoyed. She was up another 12 pounds and she loved how each new pound settled. She was still curvy as hell, but she was softer now; a layer of pudge had formed around her middle and her thighs were beginning to touch more often than not, not to mention how she was up another cup size and her ass had begun to peek out the bottom of her short shorts.  
   
Stiles loved her of course; he’d been very vocal about it and extremely tactile admiring the new curves. Honestly Lydia had felt like a goddess under his wandering finger, and she knew she could be happy like this, but that pull of indulgence and spite kept nagging at her.   
   
She started college another five pounds heavier, and Natalie had been so flustered by the sight of her daughter heading out to college with Stiles, romper clinging to her plush curves. 145 pounds may have been the end of all this madness had she not found the second book, The Smart Student’s Guide to Healthy Living: How to Survive Stress, Late Nights, & the College Cafeteria, strapped to her scale when unpacking her toiletries.  
   
(‘Don’t listen to her, she’s clearly crazy.’ Stiles had said, arms wrapped tightly around Lydia that first night when she had angry tears streaming down her face. ‘You’re beautiful, and I don’t care if you gain the freshmen 15 or 50, I’m gonna love you.’  
   
Lydia had kissed him that night, soft and tender, a plan forming in her mind, ‘freshmen 50 huh?’  
   
Stiles had gone pink up to his ears at the question, ‘babe, you’re hot, always been hot, but these soft curves? Fuck, I can’t keep my hands off you, I...I know you have a sweet tooth, I’m not stupid, and I know you’ve been indulging more, I may be enabling that drive,” he had rambled, eyes widening in fear at the admission.  
   
He wasn’t expecting the smirk flitting across Lydia’s lips, or the words that followed. ‘How about you continue enabling my indulgence? I figure a smart boy like you can have me crushing the freshmen 15 by Thanksgiving if you try.’  
   
‘Babe, your mom won’t know what hit her when we come home for the holidays.’  
   
‘Good.’)  
   
Lydia finds out very quickly that Stiles takes his new job seriously. Orientation passes by in a flurry of treats and overindulgence that leaves Lydia’s head spinning and her belly more often than not stuffed.  
   
It’s a bit tougher finding a rhythm once you factor in classes but Stiles is diligent and midway through September her new clothes are starting to cling to her once more. Stiles sends Lydia to classes with a large thermos full of milkshakes, heavy cream and whole milk with chocolate syrup and ice cream to boot. Snacks start to appear in her book bag; chocolate bars, cookies, and chips. Lydia feels as though she’s constantly eating; carb heavy breakfasts, thermos full of shake, snacks for class, a large lunch spread, afternoon snack, dinner, late night sundaes. It’s a dizzying amount of calories and Lydia is in utter bliss knowing each pound creeping on her frame is a slap in the face of Natalie’s image of a perfect thin daughter.  
   
The scale gets used more by September’s end. The dial keeps creeping upwards and by Columbus Day she’s up 17 pounds. They celebrate the achievement by ordering in a slew of Chinese food and watching romcoms.  
   
Lydia is aware she’s bigger now; it’s hard to miss when her outfits deemed suitable for public wear seem to be diminishing even quicker. Her favorite skirts refuse to fasten much less make it up her thighs these days, blouses that used to be roomy cling to the new forming rolls, and god her bras are getting tight again. Stiles can’t seem to keep his hands off her either, wandering fingers caress her curves in the morning, errant gropes in the halls, and gentle squeezes pressed up close in stolen moments between class; it’s positively divine.  
   
In the week leading up to Halloween Stiles takes to stockpiling bags of candy; all of Lydia’s favorites. Between the influx of candy to her already calorie laden diet of fast food, drinking, buffet styled cafeteria and the continuous supply of snacks combined with the complete cessation of exercise save the short walks to and from class and the mess hall, well, it is only natural that Lydia’s weight would skyrocket; so much so that it nearly causes a wardrobe malfunction when they attend Stiles’ frat costume party. Lydia looks positively sinful dressed as the Jessica to Stiles’ Roger Rabbit; red dress straining across her hips, plunge neckline threatening to expose more than just her ample cleavage.  
   
(‘Lyds, you’re so damn gorgeous...driving me crazy parading around like this,’ Stiles had whispered pressing up against Lydia.   
   
‘It’s your fault my dress fits indecently,’ Lydia had smirked, hips grinding back against Stiles firmly.  
   
‘Fuck...let’s call an Uber.’  
   
‘Tired already, Stilinski?’  
   
‘Nah babe, but the things you’re doing to me...god, wanna get you home and feed you our bucket of candy, babe...then I wanna taste you, please...wanna make you feel good sweetheart.’  
   
‘I’ll call the Uber.’)  
   
It’s the Monday before they leave back for Beacon Hills when Stiles brings the scale out.  
   
Lydia smirks seeing the scale and shakes her head, “that curious huh?”  
   
“Well aren’t you?”  
   
Stiles has a point, she is incredibly curious. She hasn’t stepped on the scale since Halloween, when after a few rounds of mind-blowing sex and so much candy her Jessica Rabbit dress actually split along the side seam, they’d brought out the scale. Once Stiles had picked his jaw off the floor and managed to remember what words were a thing that existed, he had dragged her over to the scale eager to see his handiwork; 171 pounds.  
   
“Okay, let’s see what the scale has to say,” Lydia nods and works on stripping out of her sweater dress before moving to step on said scale. The curl of pleasure she feels when dial shoots up and sails past 171 makes her want to push back their plans to leave until tomorrow, spend tonight celebrating the new milestone. However, as great as it is to see 184 under that little needle, she knows they won’t ever make it on time to Beacon Hills with the absolute gut buster of diner stops Stiles has planned for them.  
   
“Mom is going to be livid.”  
   
Stiles smirks and moves in closer, arms wrapping around Lydia’s waist, fingers brushing over the bulge of fat encircling her waist now as he rests his chin on her shoulder. “Lyds, your mom is crazy. You’re still as gorgeous as ever; I swear it to you babe.”  
   
“You’re incorrigible you know that?”  
   
Grinning Stiles gives her a gentle squeeze before guiding her back to finish packing for their trip.  
   
When they do finally arrive in Beacon Hills Lydia is admittedly nervous. She swears she managed to gain another 5 pounds on the drive up here, logically she knows it’s likely a result of water weight from the salty snacks and sodas she’s been indulging, but still the way her belly is pushing over all her waistbands to spill into we lap she may not be far off in her guess.  
   
“Babe, you’re still you...and they’re gonna support you no matter what; they’re pack.”  
   
Lydia feels stupid when she walks into the Stilinski-McCall joint Thanksgiving bash. Distantly she is aware that she has nothing to worry about where the pack is concerned, and yet she is so afraid of what they might say she hasn’t stopped to think that quiet acceptance is all that will greet her. Nobody mentions her obvious weight gain, not even Isaac or Malia which is a win in itself considering their lacking filters. The closest anyone gets to bringing up her weight is Kira to say how happy she looks now that she’s relaxed some.  
   
Kira of course is right, if Lydia has learned anything gaining these 40 pounds, it’s that happiness doesn’t come in the form of starving oneself for a boy, nor is it tied to running oneself ragged trying to maintain some impossible image. At least in her experience, Lydia has found happiness in indulgence with the brown eyed boy of her dreams.  
   
Had anyone told her freshman year that she would tip the scales at 186.5 (as of Thanksgiving eve) she’d have laughed in their face. Now however, she can’t imagine it any other way. She doesn’t miss being stick-thin, skipping meals and upping cardio to maintain her weight of 113. She doesn’t miss flat abs, thigh gaps, or size 2 dresses. And she certainly doesn’t miss that gnawing ache of unfulfilled want churning deep in her belly. No she likes the new her; rolls, stretch marks, and all.  
   
Dinner at Natalie’s on the other hand is a different story. Her mother seems borderline mortified when Lydia walks through the door, fatter than she’s ever been in her life. She tries to approach the subject with Lydia delicately, asking if she’s been stressed, but anger begins to rise more throughout their thanksgiving dinner watching Stiles keep refilling Lydia’s plate.   
   
“Enough, this is appalling,” Natalie had finally snapped when plate three was cleared with gusto. Glaring at Lydia, Natalie had set down her fork before continuing, “Must you gorge yourself like a pig, it is bad enough you look like one now you’re acting like one too!”  
   
Lydia had been upset of course, but it was Stiles who beat her to the punch of retaliation.   
   
“You don’t get to speak to her that way. She’s you’re daughter, you’re supposed to love her, and if you can’t because she doesn’t fit your image of perfect then you can kindly fuck off!”  
   
Lydia has never loved Stiles more than in that moment.   
   
Dinner cut short, Lydia and Stiles end up crashing at the Stilinski household. In fact they spend the rest of the break dutifully ignoring Natalie in favor of pack. It’s like a weight lifted, which is funny to Lydia, knowing that she had to gain 73.5 pounds to finally feel free from her mother.  
   
The unfortunate thing about Thanksgiving is the break is over far too soon and before Lydia knows it she’s helping load Roscoe up again to head back across the country. It’s a little sad having to say goodbye to everyone, but Christmas break is around the corner, and plans to hang out are already in motion.  
   
Natalie comes to see them off, Stiles isn’t impressed in the slightest and refuses to acknowledge her, instead busying himself with checking the fluids on the Jeep. Lydia is wary but figures that she can give her mom one more chance, in the holiday spirit of course.  
   
Natalie doesn’t apologize, not exactly, instead she blames Stiles for Lydia’s ‘predicament’ and goes on about how it’s never too late to get back in shape, before handing over an audiobook; Rewire: Change Your Brain to Break Bad Habits, Overcome Addictions, Conquer Self-Destructive Behavior.  
   
Lydia can feel her entire body vibrating in anger, but she doesn’t say a word. Instead she takes the audiobook and gets in the Jeep. As much as she would like to retaliate, she’s aware that sometimes actions speak louder than words, and she’s fairly certain coming home for Christmas tipping the scales at 200 is a much bigger fuck you than the actual words.  
   
Besides, Lydia is certain that with Stiles helping her, 200 pounds will be a cake walk.


	12. Day 12: Humiliation / Teasing / Dirty Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jedikiah and John stumble on a mutual link and run with it

The first time it happens, both John and Jedikiah are caught off guard. Jedikiah stops dead in his tracks, brows rising in alarm; he has no idea where those words came from, and he’s not sure if they’re okay to say. The only thing that stops him mid rambling apology is the flush spreading across John’s cheeks and how wide the younger boy’s pupils have become.  
   
“Say it again,” John murmurs softly, voice coming out absolutely wrecked.

Jed is hesitant, he doesn’t want to ruin this new thing they have, and yet he feels as wrecked as John sounds and there’s that small tendril of heat sparking low in his abdomen at the possibility of exploring into that territory.

“John…”

“Say it again,” there’s a neediness to John’s voice, and if Jed is honest that’s what makes him indulge the boy.

“Can’t believe how fucking soft you’re getting John,” Jed wets his lips keeping his eyes focused on John to make sure that this isn’t a huge fuck up on his part. He doesn’t want to hurt the boy, in fact that’s the last thing he ever wants to do, but there’s something so good about skating the line of humiliation and Jed knows it’s not lost on John.

“Getting lazy in your time away from the coalition, wonder what they’d say seeing their fearless leader now?”

John whimpers, and Jedikiah almost stops if not for the way the younger boy’s hips are canting upwards in search of friction. It’s the sign that this, in all its perverse nature, is okay.  
   
They don’t really talk about it the next day; they’re not sure how to bring it up honestly. Once after all is an accident; except it doesn’t stop at once.  
   
Jedikiah has always been a man of science, and this thing with John, well it’s just another hypothesis to test. Stakes are a little higher this go-round of course, he doesn’t want to fuck up their dynamic, but he’s so fucking curious he just has to know.  
   
Twice is coincidence, but it’s a big fucking coincidence.  
   
(“Jesus, John…got a proper set of tits on you now; filling out so good baby.”  
   
John’s resulting blush is almost as pretty as the resounding mewls of pleasure that leave the boy’s lips when Jedikiah caresses his softened pecs.)  
   
Still it’s not quite solidified yet. No twice is hardly enough times to prove a theory.  
   
Three times makes for a pattern, and what a beautiful pattern to find.  
   
(“Can’t help yourself can you? Been stuffing yourself silly these past weeks; no self-control. Been really piling it on, and you like it don’t you? Love how soft you’re getting, filling out everywhere babe.”  
   
“Yes…”  
   
“Yes what, sweetheart?” Jed knows he’s got John before he even asks, but if they’re going to pursue this he wants to be crystal clear; John has to want it too.  
   
“Can’t help myself,” John pants out looking up at Jedikiah. “God Jed, I’m such a fucking pig.”  
   
“Been such a greedy thing lately haven’t you baby? Don’t think I haven’t noticed you unzipping your pants to make room for dessert.”  
   
John looks absolutely debauched, cheeks flushed and a desperate need in his eyes. John’s eyes are thin rings of blue, his pupils are so dilated right now he looks almost animalistic with want.  
   
“Yes…fuck. Jed, tell me what a greedy pig I’ve been.”  
   
Bingo.)  
   
Once they know that it turns them both on, it really just devolves from there. Jed has always been of analytical mind, and he spends hours upon hours of time researching this newfound kink. He wouldn’t have ever called himself vanilla, but this is definitely outside his previous comfort zone of acceptable kinks. As it turns out, it’s more common that he had previously thought.  
   
They start small, but soon enough they’re graduating onto bigger things. Jedikiah has always been one to push boundaries and John has a masochistic streak a mile wide; it makes for a dangerous combination.  
   
It’s how John finds himself in his current predicament. Sat at a booth in a very full diner with a large spread of food while Jed sits opposite of him with a cup of black coffee and the newspaper is enough to have John squirming before he’s even taken a bite.  
   
John thinks he may have made a mistake agreeing to let Jedikiah choose their meals. It’s really no secret that Jed’s kinks revolve around the ever increasing pudge finding its way on John’s form these days. Hell, he’s responsible for the way John’s belly sits in his lap these days, thighs chubbed up enough to touch; jaw softened enough to give way to a second chin. Jedikiah is responsible for it all.  
   
John knows he’s a far cry from former leader of the underground, but since the Founder died and Jed took him back, he can’t find it in himself to care about his body not being in tip top fighting shape. It’s not as if John planned to gain 60 pounds, but when you go from starving revolutionary leader to suddenly having a steady supply of meals and no need to run; the 60 pounds just sort of found him.  
   
“What’s a matter sweetheart, backing out already?”  
   
John surveys the spread of food – a short stack of chocolate chip pancakes drenched in syrup and piled high with butter, side of cheesy potatoes, the largest omelette John has ever seen in his life, two English muffins slathered in butter and jelly, a plate of bacon, an an extra side of sausage, along with stuffed French toast for good measure - it’s a little intimidating to say the least.

“Trying to decide what to have first,” John replies so sure of himself even he believes the lie.

“Eat the omelet first,” Jed says offhandedly as he sips his coffee. It’s meant to sound like a suggestion but John knows an order when he hears one.

Tugging the plate with the omelette towards him, John works methodically, cutting the dish in thirds and piling one atop an English muffin figuring the fastest way to get it down is sandwich style. Besides the jelly is a nice contrast to the saltiness of the cheese and breakfast meats stuffing the omelette. John keeps a steady pace, this isn’t his first session, and he knows from experience it’s easier to keep going if he stuffs himself fast and doesn’t give his belly time to register its full. 

It’s a pretty good system alternating between breakfast sandwiches and sips of his coffee shake Jed took the liberty of ordering. It holds up fairly well once he switches to pancakes too. He finds it easiest to cut into the stack as if he’s eating one pancake instead of the four before him. It’s so fucking sweet that John has to cut the taste with handfuls of bacon.

The alternating bites works for the most part, but by the time John’s started in on the cheesy potatoes he can feel himself slowing. He actually feels weighted down with the amount of food he’s stuffed his face with so far; all of it sitting like a fucking rock in his belly. He’s so fucking bloated forcing those potatoes in his mouth, and the cruel cut of his jeans into his paunch of a belly aren’t doing him any favors.

He would unbutton them, if they weren’t in public; maybe. There’s a thrill in knowing he’s gotten too fat for his clothes. Actually busting out of something from a stuffing session, and John knows he’s close with how his current shirt’s buttons are practically screaming to hold in his belly. 

“Did my little piggy overestimate himself?”

John ducks his head slightly, chin doubling with the action, Jed is too damn loud sometimes. But that’s part of their game; the more Jed can get John to squirm the better.

“I know you’re not done, don’t get a gut like that not finishing meals.”

John switches tactics then, flipping back to the sweet taste of stuffed French toast. The cream is light enough it makes powering the treat down almost easy. 

“My what a greedy boy you’ve become, you’re already full but it’s not enough is it? No, you’ve gotta be stuffed to the brim don’t you sweetheart?”

John squirms in the booth, spreading his legs to accommodate his belly as he reaches for the plate of sausage. He’s almost done, only eight links stand in his way of victory; though they may as well be 80 links with how fucking full he feels right now.

John skewers the links two at a time dragging them through syrup before eating them. It’s just piling food on top of one another at this point, he’s so fucking full, but there’s a little part of him that keeps pushing him forward. For as much Jed gets a thrill of stuffing him, John gets a rush finishing off these monstrous meals.

He’s on the last two links when their waitress, some bubbly redhead whose bedazzaled name tag reads Suzy, sets down a large chocolate fudge sundae before clearing away the empty plates.

“Jed...I can’t eat that.”

“Sure you can,” Jed grins sliding a spoon over to John.

“No way, I’ll pop.”

“John, we aren’t leaving this diner until you finish that sundae. You said I could choose the meal, did you not?”

“Okay but when they clean me off this booth because I went full Creosote, know it was your doing.”

Jedikiah smirks and flips to the next page on the business section of the paper. “Of course darling, but I’d never let my tubby boyfriend explode.”

Jedikiah is playing dirty, he knows what that word does to John. Perhaps that’s the point, distracting him with that surging feeling of greediness to push his limits. Jedikiah was always a big picture sort of guy anyway.

John is thankful that stuffing oneself with ice cream is a lot easier then filling up on breakfast foods. He’s still fucking full, but the cool treat goes down a helluva lot smoother than another stack of pancakes; he can feel the bloating though.

He’d be foolish to have thought his clothes fit properly when they walked into the diner. His jeans were already pretty snug and the shirt wasn’t faring any better before he let Jed order half the goddamn menu for him. Now though it’s an entirely different story. 

His shirt is pulled taut across his belly, the space between buttons bowing ever so slightly to expose an undershirt about a size and a half too small. And the way his jeans are digging into the flab of his belly he’s certain he’s one deep breath away from losing a button.

John’s a little over halfway through with the sundae when his shirt finally gives up. 

“Looking pretty stuffed there John, maybe you should undo those jeans of yours, or at the very least unbutton your shirt. You can’t possibly be comfortable crammed into that outfit.”

John’s working on swallowing so he can tell Jedikiah he’s fine when he hears two metallic clinking sounds followed by a feeling of relief as his belly surges forward to occupy the extra space provided. He can finally fucking breathe and he should find comfort in that but he’s too busy dealing with the rush of shame from being too fat for one’s clothes.

“Jesus John, what happened to you? It’s been less than a year and you’re busting out of all your clothes. You like getting fat don’t you? Take pleasure knowing not even your clothes can contain your greediness. Turned into such a piggy haven’t you,” Jedikiah smirks looking at John over the top of his newspaper

John’s can feel the heat coming off his face at Jedikiah’s words. Shame curled low in the pit of his stomach sparking a thrill of pleasure. He never set out to get fat, it just sort of happened, but since he’s been gaining he’s found he actually likes the changes. This however, popping buttons, is a true marker of just how far he’s let himself go, and he fucking loves that feeling of being out of control.

“Those jeans of yours aren’t far off, surprises you haven’t split a seam yet the way you’ve gorged yourself today. That what you want John; wanna be too fat for your clothes? You like this don’t you; gets you off knowing how fat you’ve gotten?”

Unbuttoning the rest of his shirt, John tugs at his undershirt to retain some modestly, but he knows it’s a pointless gesture with the way he’s bloated; it’s only a matter of time before the fabric rolls up on its own accord. He’s still got a quarter of the sundae left, and he intends to finish it, gluttony getting the best of him.

John forgoes the spoon and instead lifts the dish up to his lips to slurp down the half melted mess. He knows he’s quite the sight, a fat guy gorging unnecessarily on ice cream, as though he needs the calories when he’s already eaten himself out of his shirt.

“Fuck...so damn greedy can’t waste a drop huh?”

John knows Jedikiah is just going through the motions at this point. The older man sounds like he’s about to come undone, and that’s honestly enough to spur John on to finish the fucking sundae. He stops shy of licking the bowl clean, but it’s enough to pop the button off his jeans. Unhindered by his pants, his belly pushes past the flaps of his busted jeans and swells outward to full capacity resting heavily in his lap. His shirt finally loses the battle and rolls up enough to expose a thick strip of belly. 

For once in his life Jedikiah is speechless, all he can do is stare at John as the boy rubs at his belly trying in vain to soothe it some while he catches his breath. It takes a solid minute before he has enough focus to motion for the check.

“Getting fucking big John, not even your clothes can hold that thing in anymore.”

John just smirks, dazed look to his eyes, “yea and I’m only gonna get bigger.”


	13. Day 13: Hands on with chub aka groping / squeezing / jiggling / slapping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Loki can’t get enough of how busty Lucifer’s female vessel is, and that was before she got pregnant.

“You’re so damn gorgeous, do you know that darling,” Loki murmurs pressing a kiss to Lucifer’s neck.

Breath hitching Lucifer tilts her head to the side to give Loki more access. “I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”

Smirking Loki nips gently at a spot just below Lucifer’s jaw before sliding between his wife’s thighs. “Perhaps I should show you?”

Wetting her lips Lucifer nods in agreement, “yea darling, I’d like that very much.”

“Well, I love how kissable your lips are,” Loki murmurs ducking down to kiss Lucifer. “Love how ticklish you are right here,” Loki punctuates brushing Lu’s hair back to nip at the base of her neck.

“By the Norns I love your breasts.”

Lucifer snorts slightly at that, bringing a hand up to run her fingers through Loki’s curls. “Yes, that is glaringly obvious, darling.”

“Can you blame me? I mean they’re gorgeous.”

“They’re just breasts.”

Loki scoffs at that nuzzling against Lu’s chest. “These are not just breasts; trust me darling,” Loki repeats tugging at the front clasp of Lucifer’s bra. Lu’s bosoms heave forward now that they’re no longer constricted by her bra. Kissing across newly exposed flesh Loki smiles deviously, “these are a work of art darling.”

Lu shivers slightly at the feather light touch of his lips against her left nipple as she scrapes her nails against his scalp. “You’ve always liked my breasts; you’ve just been fixated these past few months.”

It was the truth, Lucifer had always been well endowed, but pregnancy had only served to enhance those curves. Loki was in absolute heaven watching the effect their little darling had on his wife’s body. Logically he knows he shouldn’t be taking such pleasure in his wife’s softening form, but he can’t help himself; there’s something so alluring about her this way.

Loki moans sucking a mark on the top of Lu’s left breast as he groped her right breast. “Yes I admit I’ve been rather transfixed by your curves as of late, but I can’t help myself darling.”

“Can’t you,” Lu teases biting back a moan of her own.

“No,” Loki shakes his head moving to leave another mark as he allows his free hand to glide down Lu’s curves, groping gently at supple flesh before resting at her hip. “Can’t be helped; you’ve charmed me with your devilishly good looks,” Loki smirks tilting his head up to gauge Lu’s reaction.

“Pull the other one darling.”

“Would you believe me if I said I love how they’ve gotten bigger because I know they’re growing heavy with milk to nourish our little one? That I love how sensitive your tits are these days. Just takes playing with your nipples to get you hot and bothered enough to cum for me. Love all those breathy whines and mewls you make for me,” Loki murmurs paying careful attention to Lu’s breasts.

Moaning incoherently Lu arches slightly to press into Loki’s touch. She knows Loki is right, she’s been so sensitive lately and Loki was already insatiable when it came to her breasts but lately it’s increased tenfold. She can’t say that she minds, after all the way he’s been lavishing her with attention makes her feel like a Queen.

“Just like that darling; positively exquisite.”

“You know,” Lu says wetting her lips and taking a moment to steady herself before proceeding. “They’re going to get bigger, bra’s already getting tight.”

“Fuck, now who isn’t playing fair,” Loki groans as he mouths at Lu’s chest.

“Turnabout is fair play darling ,” Lu grins curling her fingers in Loki’s locks.


	14. Day 14: Size difference

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lydia discovering that she may have a thing for just how different in size her and Stiles are

Lydia knew she was on the shorter side, she hadn’t inherited the tall gene from the Martins, as a result she had taken to wearing heels to compensate for her shorter stature. 

Of course her size did have occasional benefits. Being shorter made any amount of weight show up on her. And while she hadn’t particularly cared for that initially she was pleased to note when she started maturing she certainly grew more curvaceous than the taller girls in their age group. She had hips and cleavage that all the other girls envied.

Stiles on the other hand was quite the opposite, always too tall, thin and lanky. He was like a baby deer all long limbs and clumsiness.

They made for quite a sight as a couple. As opposite as two people could be it seemed they wouldn’t work well, but if anything, these different qualities actually complimented one another. They were both crazy about one another’s forms. 

Stiles adored Lydia’s curves and loved her shorter stature. There was something so sexy about the height difference, especially when she was still shorter even with the heels. And Lydia loved stiles’ look, lean muscle and how safe she felt in those arms; not to mention those long fingers of his. 

The differences in their forms only became more apparent when they went to college. Lydia has found the freshmen 15 quite easily and on her short frame it was very apparent. While stiles and his freaky metabolism left him constantly snacking without gaining a single pound. It wasn’t fair in Lydia’s mind, she felt simply looking at the food offered at the buffet and she would gain weight, while Stiles could clear a table to himself and stay as lean as ever.

Weight gain woes aside Lydia did love how stiles spoiled her whenever she ate something. He’s probably the reason she indulged more lately. It just felt so good being pampered she couldn’t help losing track of how much she was eating these days.

The weight just seemed to slowly creep up no matter what she tried. Honestly Stiles loved her softening form and as their anniversary approached Stiles began to formulate a plan to help urge Lydia to relax more.

For their second anniversary, Stiles ensured to have a smorgasbord of breakfast foods prepared to start the day off; Oreo Waffles, French toast, loaded omelettes, hash browns, pastries and chocolate covered strawberries.  
He happily feeds a little of everything to her during their breakfast in bed. 

“Baby you went all out...” Lydia grins and snuggles up to Stiles 

“of course I did my love, anything for you. Now eat up babe...gonna spoil you all day...”

Stiles kept at it and fed Lydia at least 90% of the spread with soft murmurs of praise and how he planned on rewarding her. She was distracted enough she didn’t seem to notice the majority of the food had found itself into her belly. Of course Stiles didn’t stop there. 

Two rounds of sex and showering Lydia in affection later, stiles brought up Lunch having ordered in for them. 

Having set the living room up for their celebration he went to answer the door for the arrival of their delivery. Setting up the spread of milkshakes, pizza, pastas, cheese fondue, cheesecake, French fries, mozzarella sticks, onion rings and burgers. 

‘I wasn’t sure what you’d want...so I got all our favourites’ stiles murmured sheepishly as Lydia eyed the spread with her jaw dropped 

“I don’t...stiles this is way too much food...it’s amazing...but way too much”. 

Stiles shook his head at that and looked over to her ‘nonsense. Between the two of us I’m sure we can finish it off...today is a day of spoiling and indulgence my love. Calories don’t count, just good food and good times. Plus we can work off the calories later’ he winked at her. 

“Says the man who couldn’t gain a pound if he tried”, Lydia huffed in protest, but her stomach gurgled despite her protests. 

‘Lyds...this isn’t about me. I wanna give you everything. I think you look hot, and if you happened to gain a few pounds you’d be even sexier...I assure you that’.

She smiled faintly and moved to take a seat with him and grab a plate “what am I gonna do with you Stilinski?”

stiles beamed at that. ‘I’m hoping it involves a lot of kissing?’ 

Yeah, these days Lydia was growing outwards and their size differences were less about height, but surrounded by food with Stiles by her side Lydia had never been happier. Honestly she knew they would be just fine with their size differences.


	15. Day 15: Oblivious / unintentional weight gain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Steve doesn’t realize he’s gaining until the evidence is staring him in the face in the form of pants two sizes too small.

Steve is sat on the bed with his jeans gaping wide, chubby belly pushing the flaps far enough apart that he’s certain he has no hope of getting them closed without immediately dropping 10 pounds in the next few moments. Seeing as that’s not a viable option Steve was quickly realizing he had a serious problem.

Tony had declared that they get together for team brunches four and a half months ago, and Steve had wholeheartedly agreed but somewhere in between those four months he’d managed to gain 25 pounds. He blames Loki honestly, she had been very insistent that he deserved to relax and judging by the pudge settling on his waist he’d say he had certainly settled.

“Sweetheart are you almost ready, we are going to be late if we don’t leave in the next 5 minutes.”

Cheeks flushing scarlet Steve tugs in vain at his shirt to cover up his predicament but it’s too late judging by the knowing smirk creeping on Loki’s face.

“I don’t think we are going to make it Lo,” Steve murmura rubbing the back of his neck a bit embarrassed.

“Oh” Loki asks moving further into the room, “and why is that?”

Wetting his lips Steve let’s go of his shirt letting it creep back over the slight swell of his belly exposing the unzipped jeans. “I seem to have gotten too fat for my pants,” Steve mumbles looking down angrily at his tummy.

Nodding slowly Loki moves to sit beside Steve on the bed. “Yes, I can see that...you know this isn’t the end of the world right? I can magick these bigger for today and after brunch we can buy you some new jeans.”

“I know, it’s just...when in the world did this happen.”

Loki smirks slightly at the cute confused look on Steve’s face as he pokes at the offending pudge. 

“Darling these things happen,” Loki tries delicately. “I think you wear it well,” she adds, fingers brushing across the strip of exposed skin.

She doesn’t tell him it’s inevitable given the way he’s taken her encouragement to relax seriously. Seems more often than not Steve is eating something, and between the increase of calories and the complete cessation of his crazy training plans, well the pounds had creeped on rather quickly. Loki knows it’s partly her doing, it seems super soldier metabolism is no match for a God’s and while she’s stayed svelte no matter what she’s eating, Steve has softened so much these past months; she absolutely loves it.

“I’ve gotten fat,” he pouts finally looking up at Loki.

“Nonsense, you’re gorgeous,” Loki murmurs kissing Steve tenderly, fingers still caressing his body. “Why don’t we call Tony and cancel? We can order in from that cute little bistro you like a block over.”

Steve is quiet a moment thinking it over before he nods, “okay but don’t forget to ask for Nutella with the croissants this time.”

Loki smiles brightly at that and nods, “yes of course sweetheart, how could I forget?”

“Better safe than sorry.”

“Well I’ll cancel with Tony and place our order, why don’t you get comfy?”

Steve is already wiggling out of his too tight jeans before Loki can finish her sentence. After all the jeans are a lost cause, why let them ruin an amazing breakfast with the most stunningly beautiful woman in all the nine realms? He can always lose the weight later, right now he’s enjoying relaxing for once.

“You’re the best babe.”

“I know,” Loki sing songs as she calls Tony, mind already thinking ahead to the spread she’s going to order Steve.


	16. Day 16A: Starter belly and/or superchub

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Lucifer loves providing for Gadreel and domesticity really agrees with the fallen angels.

Since they’d gotten a second chance at life, Lucifer and Gadreel had not wanted to waste a single second. It wasn’t every day that one was brought back from the dead, well when in the Winchester’s company it was likely more common than average.  
   
Still, Lucifer wasn’t going to ruin a good thing. She had never thought that Gadreel was going to take her back, but here they were in a small loft of their own, giving another chance at a relationship. It was nice having that intimacy back once more.  
   
Gadreel had no reason to trust Lucifer or allow her back into his life, and yet he had loved her from day one, and he doubted that fact would ever change. Now however, things were different, they were good. There was no need to worry about the craziness of heaven or hell; they were free to just be themselves.  
   
It was during this grace period that Lucifer took to learning how to cook. She had figured that it would be a nice gesture since Gadreel was doing so much for them to stay afloat; she had just wanted to take care of him. In order to keep their little lifestyle, Gadreel had become a security guard, it was the only job he knew and he was good at it, the one mishap withstanding. Besides there was only so much money Lucifer could make part time at the shelter.  
   
It had started small with simple breakfasts, but once she had started getting a handle on recipes it was as though she’d gotten the cooking bug. She loved to experiment with different types of recipes to let Gadreel try.  
   
There was never a shortage of food in the house once Lucifer got to cooking. The counters were constantly filled with different treats, cookies, cakes, brownies, and pies galore. Gadreel’s lunches Lucifer had sent with him evolved from simple sandwiches to hearty meals. Breakfast evolved from oatmeal and fruit to extravagant spreads, and not just for the weekends. Dinners had become several course events, and there was always dessert to be had.  
   
Lucifer was happy cooking, and honestly Gadreel was thankful for the fact that Lucifer had learned to cook. The early attempts at cooking had been quite dreadful if Gadreel is being honest; of course he never told Lucifer that. This however, was much nicer, everything was edible, and boy had Gadreel learned to eat.   
   
While Gadreel hadn’t exactly been skeletal upon his resurrection, he had been on the thinner side, and Lucifer had loved him of course, but she couldn’t help but feel guilty for his predicament. She had wanted to pamper him, but it was a little hard to do that when learning how to live among humanity and juggling jobs to make ends meet. Still when she learned how to cook, that had been a game changer for the pair.  
   
Lucifer was very happy to report that under her care Gadreel was looking far healthier these days. His face didn’t look so gaunt, now his cheeks actually looked near cherubic in nature, jawline blurring slightly, chin hinting at a double, more so when he ducked his head.  The changes just continued from there, arms more solid, chest a little softer; butt a little wider, thighs a bit thicker; everything about him was soft now. Of all the changes that had happened since Lu learned to cook, the slight curve to Gadreel’s belly was by far her favorite.   
   
She just couldn’t get enough of the slight pudge that had formed around her boyfriend’s middle. The tiny barely there love handles that were becoming more present with each passing day. The way all his shirts fit snuggly, fabric pulled taut against the slight chubby curve that had made itself present.   
   
It made her happy knowing she was responsible for the extra weight settling on Gadreel. She liked being the one to bring that happiness, the state of relaxation and ease radiating from Gadreel as they settled into their own little slice of domestic bliss. So yea, she baked a little uncontrollably these days, cooked bigger portions, and pushed seconds whenever possible, but she couldn’t be blamed for doing so when the result of unadulterated happiness.  
   
Gadreel was relaxing and the belly that came along with the new routine was icing on the cake that was Lu’s one happiness.   
   
“Lu, did you hear me?”  
   
“Hm? Sorry, Gad I guess my mind wandered, what was it you needed?”  
   
“Can I have another brownie,” Gadreel asks as he innocently licks his fingers clean.  
   
“Yea darling, of course,” Lu murmured eyes transfixed on Gadreel’s mouth. “Anything my boyfriend wants,” she says with a bright smile before plating two large brownies.


	17. Day 16B: Starter belly / superchub

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer trying to encourage Gadreel to get back to a "healthier" weight

Lucifer and Gadreel were still adjusting slowly to their new human lives. Everything was so different it could be so disorienting at times. 

Gadreel had been brought back to life first following his noble sacrifice, and Lucifer had followed suit being released from their cage. The fact that they’d even managed to find each other on earth without any grace was a sign in itself. 

There was no reason for Gadreel to trust Lucifer and yet when they’d reunited it seemed like fate. Together, Gadreel knew they could not merely survive but flourish as humans. Now they were free to discover mundane things such as the wonderful word of food. It seemed much nicer a prospect now that it was as much a necessity as it was an luxury.

When they had first found one another, both Lucifer and Gadreel had been rather thin; borderline underweight really. Between the sudden change of lifestyle coupled with a lack of money, they’d taken some time to figure out how to human correctly. Thankfully their union served as a catalyst for a new routine. The but bit of good luck in they’d found financially had only helped more in setting up their new lives.

Lucifer quickly discovered a love for all things cooking and baking, and Gadreel was more than willing to be her devoted taste tester.

Once Lucifer got cooking, it hardly took long before their thinner frames began to fill out; Gadreel even more so once he learned how good it was to indulge. In fact some might even say Gadreel had gotten rather chubby. 

Lucifer took it as a compliment of course; clearly their man’s ever growing form was a testament to her cooking abilities. Honestly, the knowledge that they were the cause of the soft belly pooching over Gadreel’s pants these days, was enough to make Lucifer happier than they’d been in a very long time.

So what if Gadreel had started getting the makings of a dad bod? It just meant Lucifer had to try even harder to make Gadreel a father to match the bod he was sporting these days. 

Oh yeah, she had no intention of stopping her plan to pamper Gadreel. No, she intended to spoil her man; he was going to live like a king to say the least.  
*~*~*~  
“Beloved, can you help me with this button on this shirt?” Gadreel sounded frustrated as he fiddled with the buttons on his shirt. “It doesn’t seem to want to close for me anymore...I swear I wore this just last week and it was fine,” he murmured exasperatedly, glaring st the offending clothing and where the fabric had bunched together refusing to encompass his bloated belly.

Lucifer made her way over to assist her boyfriend, a plateful of her triple chocolate brownies in hand, “let’s see sweetheart...that may be one of the ones that shrunk in the washing machine...it’s nothing to fret over,” she lied easily as she set the plate before Gadreel. “Why don’t you have some more brownies, and I will go find you a more suitable shirt to wear hm,” Lucifer smiled pressing a kiss to Gadreel’s rounded cheek.

Relaxing somewhat, Gadreel nods as he reaches for a brownie, “thank you my love...you know I love your brownies.”

Removing the offending shirt, Gadreel eagerly began to munch on the sweets, the burgeoning curve of chub along his abdomen now very much visible. 

“That’s my gorgeous man” Lucifer grinned and reached over to give his belly a gentle rub an pat. “I don’t want you wasting away on me now, so eat up babe. We’ve got a busy day.”


	18. Day 17: Weight gain suggested by a partner / subtle feeding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Dean convinces lady Loki that earth has plenty to offer

The thing is Loki has always been very measured with her eating habits prior to meeting Dean Winchester. When you have Thor as a brother you find ways to stand out, and while Loki wasn’t as brawny as Thor, they’d always had their magic flair and lithe figure.

With Dean the focus on food or lack thereof, falls to the wayside. Dean is full of all sorts of ideas of what foods are best and that Loki must try them all as a newcomer to Earth.

Loki keeps reminding Dean this is hardly her first time to Earth, but the Winchester is adamant the other times don’t count because they precede the invention of the donut burger and therefore lacking solid representation of all of Earth’s edible deliciousness. She won’t admit it to him of course, but he’s right about the food getting tastier in the years since her last visit.

As a result of the influx of treats Dean deemed necessary for her to try, Loki finds her form less lithe these days. She’s hardly fat, no if anything she’s still on the appropriate side of curvy, but it’s such a change for her usual form that she isn’t sure how to handle it all.

Dean is a fan of the new curves. She can tell in the way Dean can’t seem to keep his hands off her. Their sex life was fantastic before, but since she’s begun filling out it’s gotten phenomenal. There’s something sensual she wasn’t expecting in the way Dean caresses her curve, fingers digging into plush flesh where once there were thin lines; it’s a divine experience.

It’s probably why she doesn’t turn down the offered treats. Dean must think he’s being subtle, offering her bites of his food, ordering her chocolate confections, bringing more snacks around for her to try, but Loki is onto his game. He likes the extra weight, that much is obvious, and Loki finds confidence with this new form in a way she never expected.

It’s why she doesn’t fight anymore, if anything she puts on a show when she indulges for Dean. It’s an unspoken agreement between them two, and if she’s destined to pick up a few more pounds along the way of this Dean deemed necessary gastronomical tour of the US, well she’s just fine with that.


	19. Day 18: A day of stuffing / a day of shopping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles buying Derek groceries and then stuffing him silly, because who really wants to live on rabbit food?

Stiles had planned to spend the weekend at Derek’s and had promised to be the one to cook for them. Of course knowing his boyfriend, Stiles knew a grocery run was necessary. To say Derek kept a bare cupboard was an understatement.

Upon arriving at the store, Stiles gave Derek a call if only to give the Hale the illusion he had a choice in the menu options.

“Hey sourwolf, I’m at the store...was wondering what you might be in the mood for dinner? I’m sure your stock in the kitchen consists of kale and nothing else...” he made a face at that and heads down the chip aisle; ugh the horror of existing on rabbit food alone.

‘you act as though healthy food might kill you Stiles.’ 

Stiles snorts at that “yeah...cuz it will. I’m making you a spread of good food and you’re gonna eat it and like it.”

“Oh is that so,” Derek asks bemusement clear through the phone. 

“Yea, there will be no more rabbit food while I’m around,” Stiles nods as he piles the cart high with assorted junk food.

Stiles swears he can hear Derek’s eye roll through the phone. Really it’s a pastime at this point getting under Derek’s skin.

‘Just because I eat relatively healthy and you don’t, doesn’t mean I’m eating incorrectly or eating rabbit food,’ Derek shoots back in a way that reeks of annoyance.

“Uh...yes it does,” Stiles snorts as he heads down the frozen food aisle. “That’s it, this situation is obviously even worse than I thought. I’m stocking you up on the proper foods to live by on your expense,” Stiles smirks heading to the bakery next. “See you later than anticipated big guy. I’ve got a plan!” 

Derek sighed when he heard stiles hang up before his protest. Lord only knows what the boy was up to with his black Amex.  
*~*~*~*  
It takes two hours for Stiles to return to Derek’s with a Jeep full of junk food; honestly it’s a miracle how he got everything stacked in Roscoe.

Derek rolls his eyes when he sees Stiles, arms cross over his chest as he eyes the multitude of bags. ‘seriously? You are not bringing all that junk in my house...” 

Stiles smirks defiantly, “sure about that big guy? I mean if you want Stiles in your house, then you need Stiles food in your house”.

It doesn’t matter how much Derek protests Stiles still manages to cram every last bit of junk into his kitchen. How one can live off pop tarts and cola he’s not sure and honestly he’s afraid to find out.  
*~*~*~*  
Stiles is honestly quite pleased by the results his cooking are having on Derek. It’s been a week since he took over the duties of providing food for his boyfriend, and the combinations have been nothing short of spectacular.

Who knew potato chips sprinkled on top of lasgana was a good idea? Well stiles knew now that it was a fucking great idea and Derek had practically inhaled it after he had stopped judging long enough to try a bite. 

Clearly Stiles had found his calling in the culinary world.

Derek won’t admit it so freely but he loves Stiles’ cooking; maybe a little too much.

It’s no wonder that after a week of stiles meals - morning, noon, and night - and Derek couldn’t even zip up his jeans.

The same size jeans he had worn since he turned 18, now refused to button, not to mention the zipper had just given up entirely. Apparently neither could handle the bloat belly Derek now sported.

Derek knows he should be upset, but honestly he can’t be too bothered with ill fitting clothes when Stiles yells out dinner is ready. Oh well, looks like its time for another shopping trip.


	20. Day 19: Chubs working in the food industry aka restaurant! / Bakery! / fast food! / Food critic!AU, etc.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Lydia and Stiles own their own restaurant and Derek is the food critic that steals their hearts.

It’s the day that they’ve been waiting for since Stiles convinced Lydia they should open up a restaurant. ‘It was suicide,‘ Natalie had said frowning, clearly upset that her daughter was still tied to the hip with that Stilinski boy, and now deciding to forgo a lucrative job with the FBI dealing with forensics to open up a soul food shop of all things.

Lydia honestly didn’t care what her mother thought of their business venture, Stiles had a talent in the kitchen, the 30 pounds she’d found in college was proof of that, and the thought of setting up shop in Louisiana was enough to sell her on the idea of a restaurant. Which is why she’s just as excited when THE Derek Hale food critic extraordinaire walks into their store.

“Mr. Hale, what a pleasure to have you here with us today. I’ll show you to your table,” Lydia says with a smile looking over the seating chart before guiding the renowned critic to a book in the back.

“The Hungry Fox? Don’t you think it’s a bit odd to name you restaurant after a tale admonishing children for over indulgence,” Derek asks arching an eyebrow as he looks around the restaurant.

“On the contrary, Mr. Hale, the guests seem to find it catchy,” Lydia says motioning Derek to a booth near the back.

“Yes, well I suppose you can’t account for sophistication,” he murmurs moving to take a seat.

Lydia bites her tongue, instead offering a small smile, “Perhaps, but I’ll let you make up your own opinion once you’ve tried the food. Our chef has created a special menu for you to taste tonight; I believe you’re in for a real treat.”

“You must know buttering me up won’t improve your review, Ms. Martin.”

**Appetizer: Blackened Shrimp Avocado Cucumber Bites**

Derek is a little surprised when he sees Lydia saunter over with a plate of food. It’s not typical of the hostess to bring out dishes, but then it appears that the business is in a lull, and something tells Derek that Lydia isn’t your typical hostess.

“Your starter Mr. Hale,” Lydia says with a smile setting the dish down before Derek.

Derek nods inspecting the dish. Perhaps Lydia was right, it smelt delicious and it looked wonderful in presentation, maybe there was something to this little shop in the French Quarter.

The first bite really sells Derek on the charm of the restaurant. It’s quite simply the most delicious appetizer he’s had the good fortune to try in a blossoming new restaurant. It’s not heavily seasoned, it’s tender, and the ratio of avocado to cucumber and shrimp is perfect. All in all it is a good start to the dining experience.

“The meal of course is on the house, so please enjoy it in its entirety,” Lydia says with a smile noting the pleased look on Derek’s face.

The dish has a dozen shrimp bites perfectly arranged on a long white porcelain plate. Derek manages 9 before he reigns himself in remembering the other courses to come. It would be unsightly to end the meal in a bloated state.

**Soup: Cajun Pumpkin Soup**

The glowing review in the Times really goes a long way in securing a bigger customer base, especially when said review is from the food critic darling of the south; Derek Hale. The shop has been bustling since the review was printed, and honestly Stiles and Lydia couldn’t be more proud.

The fact that Mr. Hale had managed to drop in the following week was a testament to the deliciousness the menu had to offer.

“I have a new recipe I’d like you to try,” Stiles says as he sets down the bowl of soup before Derek.

“I’m a critic, not a guinea pig,” Derek quips but he reaches for the spoon looking at the dish before him.

“Yes but I believe you said ‘The Hungry Fox is a resplendent burst of flavor that needs to be experienced in one’s lifetime’,” Stiles smirks as he waits for Derek to take the first bite.

“Yes, well I have been known to be a bit verbose in my reviews,” Derek replies coolly as he takes the first taste of the soup before him.

Fuck.

It’s creamy and savory and absolutely divine. Derek ignores the probability of an astronomical calorie count that’s attached to the bowl of soup, it’s worth it for the taste flooding his mouth.

“I’ll add it to the menu then,” Stiles says as he heads back to the kitchen to get started on the rest of his planned meal for Mr. Hale.

**Entree: Chicken Fried Biscuits w/Hollandaise & Cajun yams w/Collard Greens **

“Why Mr. Hale, thrice in one month, are we truly that exquisite in your book,” Lydia teases as she guides him back to his usual booth.

Derek flushes slightly as he unbuttons his suit jacket and moves to take a seat in the booth. His suits have begun to feel snug in their cut, but he imagines it must be due to his busy schedule more than his increasingly frequent trips to The Hungry Fox.

“Well I heard from The Herald that Chef Stilinski’s newest creation just had to be tried.”

“Stiles.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“He prefers to be called Stiles,” Lydia responds writing down Derek’s name on the guest check to take back to Stiles. “I trust you’ll want the new dish with your customary order?”

“You’re quite adept at your job Ms. Martin,” Derek says unwrapping his silverware.

“It comes with the territory, and please Ms. Martin is far too stuffy, I prefer Lydia.”

“In that case Derek will suffice.”

“Well Derek, we’ll get your order put in, please don’t hesitate to let us know if there’s something else you might need.”

The portions at the Hungry Fox are no joke, but the thing is the explosion of flavors in each bite is enough to distract from noticing how much is being eaten. Derek is certain that’s to blame for why he’s been overindulging lately.

The hesitance that had been there week one are a thing of the past, each plate is cleared by the time the next course is out. However, Derek worries that he won’t make it to dessert this week, the dishes before had been quite ample and the newest dish boasts a rather heavy combination of biscuits chicken fried biscuits. The description alone leaves Derek practically drooling in anticipation of trying them.

The biscuits are flaky and golden to perfection and they go wonderfully with the chicken. The hollandaise is something he wouldn’t have thought to add atop the biscuits but he owes Stiles some more praise because it’s a beautiful combination of flavors. It’s made better by the wonderful sides of Cajun yams and the collard greens.

The dish is quite simply the tastiest thing he’s ever had the pleasure of eating. Except for the soup prior or the shrimp starters, well to be fair Stiles clearly had a gift and Derek was eagerly looking forward to trying more dishes in the near future.

Adjusting his belt and pants Derek slumps back in his booth; with his tailor being out for the week he’d been finding his suits had an odd cut around the thighs and rear. He’d think more on that later, for now he was eager to get through the rest of the courses

**Palate Cleanser: Salmon Tataki Ginger Canapés**

The palate cleanser came in the form of salmon tataki ginger canapes, and they were delicious and light and impossible to keep track of how many were being eaten, though Stiles was sure to add more each time he sent out the dish to Derek’s booth. This week he was up to 24 canapes.

Derek had increased his visits to The Hungry Fox to twice weekly and the results were beginning to show on the fit of his suits whenever he came to join them.

The buttons, much to Lydia’s delight, were beginning to strain slightly by the time he reached the palate cleanser. She hadn’t fared much better if she’s honest, she knows her hips are wider now than when they started this restaurant venture, but really Stiles is a fantastic chef and someone needs to be the taste tester.

“You’ll be in for a real treat this weekend, Stiles has started a new creation with you in mind,” Lydia says lifting up the cleaned dish.

“Well if it’s anything like those biscuits from last week I can hardly wait,” Derek says relaxing in his booth.

“Oh it’ll be even better I assure you,” Lydia smirks turning to saunter her way back to the kitchen. She is quite aware of Derek’s gaze on her, it’s why she exaggerates the sway of her hips a tad more than normal. She’s not dumb, she knows how her ass looks in this skirt.

Plate in hand she heads toward the kitchen eager to report to Stiles the progress Derek’s made.

**Pasta: Stilinski’s Cajun Pasta**

“May I have a word with the chef?”

Lydia smiles noting how much of the large past bowl is finished. “Yes of course Derek.”

The pasta is glorious, there’s no simple way for Derek to put it than that. The chicken is marinated to perfection, lobster sautéed wonderfully, and the shrimp is seasoned in such a way as to not be overpowering. The real jewel is the garlic-alfredo linguini it’s served over, it makes for a wonderful filling dish.

“I hope everything is to your liking,” Stiles says clasping his hands a bit nervously. 

When Lydia had told him that Derek requested a meeting he was understandably nervous. Silly perhaps considering the frequent visits Derek had been making but given the attractiveness of the man before him coupled with that incredible appetite, well Stiles was suitably smitten.

“Quite, I wanted to give my compliments to you personally.”

Stiles is practically vibrating out of his skin he’s so excited by the praise. The glowing review was monumental in the store’s continued success, but this, a genuine compliment off the books; it was gold.

“You’d have to thank Lydia as well. Being a chemistry major seems to have paid dividends in the kitchen, she’s quite honestly the best taste tester I’ve had the pleasure of indulging. She has a knack for knowing what flavor combinations to try,” Stiles murmurs flashing Lydia a smile and wink across the restaurant. 

Derek feels a twinge at Stiles’ words, and he knows it’s wrong. He’d known walking into the restaurant weeks ago that the two were a couple and yet sat in a booth stuffed to the gills with pasta he feels jealous.

The part that worries him is he’s not sure who he’s jealous of more; the buxom redheaded hostess with the ever expanding figure or the brunet spazzoid of a chef with those ridiculously long lashes. He is sure of one thing however; he is well and truly fucked.

“Well I’ll have to thank her as well,” Derek nods twirling up another massive forkful of pasta. “You two make quite the pair, it’s simply remarkable what you’ve done with this place.”

“Can I get that in writing? Seriously it would go a long way smoothing things out with the future mother-in-law. Between you and me she loathes me for sticking her daughter in the restaurant business. Heaven forbid she be happy.”

There’s that twinge again. 

“Will a secondary review do,” Derek asks before stuffing his face. Emotional eating is not something he makes a habit of falling victim to but since his first visit to The Hungry Fox he’s been quelling his lust in calorific dishes.

Stiles’ laugh surprises him but it’s a lovely sound. “And they say you’re stuffy, you’re a snarky bastard aren’t you,” Stiles teases actually patting Derek on the shoulder. “Listen I’ve got a kitchen to run but perhaps you’d be willing to do a private tasting; I’ve got a new dish I want you to try.”

It takes a lot of restraint not to lean into Stiles touch and Derek is certain he’s gone bright red in embarrassment from the thoughts running through his head. It’s a miracle really that he manages to nod let alone string together a few words. “I’ll leave my card with Lydia when I leave, you can call and schedule that tasting.”

If Stiles smiled any more his face would surely split. The only thing that breaks the storybook moment is the resounding thump of Stiles stumbling into a table on his way back to the kitchen.

“It’s a miracle we haven’t burned down considering how clumsy he can be, our insurance would triple if they had any clue,” Lydia teases taking a seat opposite of Derek. It’s late enough on a Thursday that the restaurant is mostly clear save a few regulars and Lydia is afforded the opportunity to leave her post to chat.

“Surely its a balance for his talent in the kitchen,” Derek counters working on twirling up another large bite.

“Yes among other talents,” Lydia smirks in such a devious way Derek feels dirty just hearing the innuendo laden remark.

That twinge is ever persistent today and Derek is nowhere closer to figuring out who the jealousy is for now than he was with the first twinge.

He supposes the one saving grace is the carb heavy pasta currently sitting in his gut is enough to leave him feeling blissed out and on the brink of a food coma. He will blame his delayed reaction to not noticing Lydia sliding her foot along the inside of his calf on the glorious drugged feeling of utter contentment.

“Did Stiles tell you about the tasting he has planned?”

Cheeks full Derek flushes covering his mouth before answering in affirmative. Shifting on the booth bench to get his wallet Derek frowns slightly noting what a snug fit his trousers are these days; surely he hadn’t gained since his last fitting.

“Ask for Malia, she’s in charge of my schedule.”

Sliding free from the booth with a degree of difficulty that only comes from possessing an ample posterior, Lydia takes the offered card with a smile.

“Of course, enjoy the rest of your meal Derek.”

**Salad: Southwestern Chopped Salad w/ Crab Meat**

Derek knows for a fact that Malia must have cleared his schedule to make room for the private tasting, he just can’t actually prove she played a role. Still he can’t really complain when a private tasting means a nice secluded dinner after hours with the subjects of his current fantasies.

He thought it was weird the first time Stiles brought out a salad considering it’s late appearance in the meal, but now he knows it’s so the guests don’t fill up on lettuce with so much left to explore on the menu. Now he welcomes the addition of the salad. It helps him keep the illusion of a healthy diet when he knows the bit of green peeking out from the extravagant crab meat topped southwestern style salad does little to counteract the carb laden courses that precede its appearance.

“You’ve truly outdone yourself this time Stiles, the meal has been positively divine.”

Topping off the signature cocktail, mango tequila sunrise in a mason jar, Stiles smiles happily. “It’s always such a pleasure to cook for you, you’ve always got a compliment tucked away for us.”

“You’ve got to try the new dressing,” Lydia says holding a fork piled high with greens and crabmeat drenched in a cilantro based ranch in front of Derek’s face.

It’s wrong on so many levels but Derek can’t convince himself why it’s bad to lean forward and take the proffered bite. He knows he probably makes for quite a sight already full but leaning in for more. The act itself is intimate and that sends a thrill through him instead of that pool of jealousy that’s been rearing its head during his previous visits.

“Quite exquisite,” Derek nods in agreement humming thoughtfully at the rich taste of ranch.

“You’ve got something—“ Stiles makes an aborted motion towards his face before he makes the calculated decision to wipe away the stray dressing smeared across Derek’s bottom lip. “There,” he murmurs smiling faintly upon noticing the delicious color of pink Derek’s gone from the action. Licking his thumb clean of dressing Stiles is quite pleased to see he has Derek’s undivided attention.

The slight shift and creative positioning of his dinner napkin is hardly enough to hide his dilemma, Derek knows that the restauranteur couple must know what state he’s in with how wide his pupils must look and that blasted flush is still very much present he can feel it in how his cheeks burn. It’s wishful thinking on his part to think perhaps they’re just as thrilled by this after hours testing.

Surely it’s a trick of his mind thinking the two could want anything to do with him in that capacity. What would Stiles want with a food critic that’s fallen off the fitness path so incredibly hard that his tailor had to fashion him an entirely new wardrobe when his last pair of pants refused to be let out anymore. Especially when said chef has quite possibly the most beautifully curvaceous woman he’s ever had the pleasure of meeting. Besides Lydia for all her flirtatious attitude she held with their visits was so clearly in love with Stiles it hurt being caught between them.

“Have you still got room for dessert?”

“Yes you need to stay for dessert,” Stiles nods sipping at his own drink. “It’s Lydia’s favorite, and I think you’ll like it too. May have to write an entire review on just the pie,” he teases.

Wetting his lips Derek nods, he’s still on the right side of comfortably full but he can’t help the gluttonous tendencies creeping into his eating habits where Stiles’ cooking is concerned. “I’m sure I can manage a small slice.”

“Or two,” Lydia grins licking her fork clean. “Surely you’re not going to let our hard work go to waste.”

“I really shouldn’t...”

“Nonsense, after hours calories don’t count,” Stiles grins winking at Derek.

His heart doesn’t quite flutter but it’s a near thing. Between their twin grins and his wink and her tongue Derek’s head is left swimming.

“I suppose I could stay for dessert.”

Derek, and his waistline for that matter, is well and truly fucked.

**Dessert: Sweet Potato Pie w/ A Candied Praline And Toasted Marshmallow Finish**

These after hour tastings had started to become rather routine for Derek, the evidence of those supposed nonexistent calories were quite obvious now. Derek’s former svelte figure was clearly a thing of the past. These days he’s traded his thousand dollar suits for forgiving jeans that have far more give than Armani.

It seems however that his figure is not the only one to fall victim to Stiles’ cooking. Lydia is looking downright plump, wide hips and ample ass stretching skirts out, impressive cleavage on display with the deep cut blouses she insisted on wearing. God she was an absolute vision squeezing her way through tight table arrays to seat guests.

Judging by the way Stiles has taken to hand feeding Lydia through their late night tastings, Derek figures he too was a fan of her newfound curviness. But that’s fair given they’re a couple and Derek has never felt so frustrated and very much the third wheel in his life. Of course he’s gone and ruined his chances elsewhere by the 30 pounds he’s managed to gain since he started coming to The Hungry Fox. Stiles and Lydia are unattainable, linked together, a perfect match; and Derek, well he’s successfully gone past adorably chubby and is quickly approaching into fat and forever alone territory.

Still he supposes that his masochistic streak is the only thing bigger than his gluttonous urges. That has to be the reason he keeps showing up to these dinners. He’s up to two regular hour visits and two after hour meet ups a week and judging by the way his thighs are rubbing his newest jeans are on their way to an early demise.

“Hey big guy, you still with us?”

Stiles is looking over at him worriedly as he plates a gigantic slice of the most decadent looking sweet potato pie Derek has ever seen. Lydia looks just as worried from her soft sat left of him, she’s even abandoned her own plate to give him her full attention.

“Yea sorry, just thinking,” Derek murmurs eyeing the slice of pie before looking up to the worried couple. “Why do you two keep inviting me here? Clearly you don’t need my reviews; your shop is flawless.”

Lydia’s brows furrow slightly at Derek’s comments. Shooting a glance at Stiles it’s clear an entire conversation has taken place in that one look and Derek feels more lost than ever. He’s clearly not needed here, the food is good but even he has a limit to how much sexual frustration he will endure for cuisine.

“Perhaps we weren’t clear in our intent when we invited you here. I blame myself, I had told Stiles subtlety wasn’t the route I’d suggest when going about proposing to add a third.”

Derek’s head hurts and he knows it’s not the two bottles of merlot they’ve finished between the three of them. 

“I’m sorry what?”

Stiles looks exasperated and is flushed a lovely shade of pink. He’s twitching a bit unsure what to do with his hands and it’s clear that whatever was decided mis silent conversation is being thrown to the wayside because the words just start tumbling from Stiles.

“We like you. Like a lot Der. I mean it started out as wanting to impress you for a good review, yea, but you’re not like the other critics. You’re not some stuffy old bag, you’re like really hot.”

Derek snorts at that because Stiles is obviously blind or has a radically different definition of the word hot. Derek used to be hot, like model hot even, now he’s firmly in dad bod territory and it’s almost laughable how far he’s fallen from Louisiana’s hottest food critic.

“And that’s another thing you don’t see it at all. You’re snarky and funny in a dry sort of way, you’re gorgeous and you flush so beautifully. If you only knew how badly I’ve wanted to get my hands on you.”

“Stiles pump the brakes you’re going to scare our poor Derek away.”

Blinking dumbly Derek isn’t quite sure what to say. It’s a lot of information to process and even so when he manages to form a coherent sentence it’s a train wreck if ever there was one.

“But you’re together.”

Lydia smirks in a way that screams bless his heart. “Yes, and I love Stiles, always will. But he’s right about you being gorgeous and this wouldn’t be our first polyamorous venture. This is however one that we are looking to pursue long term.”

Derek feels like he’s dreaming. These things just don’t happen in real life; nobody is that matter-of-fact.

“You’re serious,” Derek asks looking between the two. He’s certain the rug is going to be pulled out from under him and he’s prepared to bolt but his masochistic streak is going strong; he’s just got to know.

“As a heart attack,” Stiles nods. “If you’d prefer I could show you how serious I am,” he adds eyebrows waggling suggestively.

“What my dork of a boyfriend means to say is we’re sorry we’ve been giving you mixed signals but if you’re open to the idea of exploring this, well we’d be delighted to have you join us.”

“You know I won’t be able to review your shop anymore,” Derek says after a moment. “It would be a serious conflict of interest if we pursue this don’t you think?”

Stiles is grinning so widely it’s a wonder his face hasn’t split. “You’re not fucking with us right? God I could kiss you right now.”

“I believe I called dibs on first kiss,” Lydia interjects pointing her fork at Stiles accusingly, large bite of pie balanced precariously on the utensil. 

Stiles holds his hands up in defense. “Fair enough but I still want that kiss, assuming you’re not actually messing with us both.”

Derek leans across the table to kiss Lydia in answer. The action draws out a soft moans from how his swollen belly is constricted by the pinch of his jeans. It’s worth it though for the surprised yelp from Lydia as she returns the kiss in earnest.

“Fuck...you guys look so hot...one of you needs to kiss me right now or so help me I’ll combust from lust.”

Lydia breaks away long enough to tug Stiles into a kiss and that twinge is back again only this time Derek can act on his urges. So he does.

Stiles is looking pretty dazed by the time Derek breaks the kiss. His lips are swollen from kissing with a red sheen and the back of his hair is rumpled and clothes a bit askew from the wayward gropes. 

“Yea okay new plan, we are taking dessert to go,” Stiles proclaims heading to the kitchen to find a container. 

Lydia offers a bite of pie to Derek and honestly he finally feels relaxed for the first time in weeks. Between the headiness of impending food coma and the rush from kissing his two crushes well Derek is feeling really good.

Savoring the sweetness of the the sweet potatoes mixed with the nuttiness of the pralines Derek is quite content to make these sessions a nightly routine ruined wardrobe be damned.


	21. Day 20: Feedism / mutual gaining

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and Bishop discovering a mutual love of pie, work and feeding each other up

Stiles and James met when they both decided to enter the annual all you can eat pie contest at the Boston local fair. 

They’d joined the contest on a whim. After all they loved pie and a chance to pig out on all you can eat pie was an opportunity they couldn’t resist. What they didn’t expect was to fall in love with something other than pie that day. 

After successfully coming in 3rd and 4th place, they started chatting with one another at ribbon the ceremony; they quickly realized they had quite a bit in common. 

Stiles was new to Boston, cashing in on an opportunity to attend the Boston police academy, and James was actually head of the Boston Police Force. The fact they’d crossed paths yet again seemed like too big of a coincidence to ignore, so conflict of interest aside they decided the universe was clearly trying to tell them something; besides what could coffee hurt.

They met up again to discuss further opportunities for Stiles over drinks a week or so later. Drinks turned into dinner and dinner turned into Stiles coming home with Bishop. 

A few weeks later the pair officially started dating. They spent every free moment they could together when they weren’t busy with school or work. Turns out similarities didn’t end there at a mutual love of pie and chosen career paths. After dating a few months they discovered they shared a love for feeding one another which led to discovering a whole slew of kinks.

They would take turns feeding one another up; ensuring both parties were comfortable and enjoying themselves. There was something so delightfully hedonistic about overindulgence.

Stiles took extra pleasure in feeding up Bishop once he discovered the older man was in fact a vampire. It meant he could feed up his man even more without any guilt or worry of health conditions. 

It was a welcome change since a health scare of his own had left Stiles on dietary restrictions for a short while. Bishop had been worried sick and insisted they got him back to a healthy weight. It was a difficult time but ultimately led them to make a decision that would change their lives; Bishop turned Stiles. 

Things started to steam up even more after Bishop turned Stiles. With neither having a need to hold back, they both able to enjoy themselves and push each other past their previous limits. 

Finally. They were happy.


	22. Day 21: Eating competition / all-you-can-eat / free food

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alternate AU where josh has his bakery but Aidan never killed Bishop and the three are a throuple. Werevamp!Josh featured here.

Their current predicament is all Josh’s fault, Aidan and Bishop can both agree on that, but it doesn’t quell their competitive drive. No, if anything it serves as fuel for each one wanting to outdo the other.

When you have a talented baker for a boyfriend it comes with strings. There are the upsides, like having delicious treats readily available, but there’s a drawback that neither vampire had thought of prior to falling in with Josh; the scale keeps creeping upwards these days.

Bishop knows he’s a walking cop stereotype, uniform shirts pulled snuggly across a burgeoning belly, thick thighs straining his pants, widening hips and butt brushing his desk chair; he’s a long way from 172 he’d been the many centuries prior to meeting Josh. He can’t help himself though; Josh has a gift when it comes to baking, hell that’s underselling it really, because Josh is gifted all around in the kitchen. 

Bishop would be embarrassed if Aidan weren’t in the same boat. The younger vampire had gotten rather chubby as of late, perhaps not as big as Bishop, but he certainly wasn’t sporting a six pack any longer. It was a good look on him if Bishop was being honest, he seemed happier these days.

The point being that had Josh not been such a good cook, Aidan and Bishop wouldn’t have so readily agreed to be taste testers for the new slew of pie recipes Josh was keen to try. Or perhaps they would have helped out of boyfriend obligations, but the promise of tasty pies is even better. The competitive nature between them is also partly to blame for their current predicament. Somewhere along the line, official taste tester morphed into a pie eating contest.

They had started with a rather liberal slice of toffee chocolate pecan pie; it was rich and delicious and just the perfect mix of sweet and savory.

“Save room for the rest, I may have gone a little overboard baking,” Josh had said pouring them each a glass of milk.

“Baby that isn’t going to be a problem, I will always have room for your dessert,” James had boasted licking his fork clean.

“Care to make a wager,” Aidan had asked arching a brow as he shoveled a large bite into his mouth. “I bet I can eat more pie than you.”

“Oh you’re on babe.”

The bet had resulted in them going back for seconds and then thirds of the pecan pie twist before moving onto the next pie; Peanut butter chess pie.

“You two are truly incorrigible,” Josh had said shaking his head as they’d taken to splitting the pies in half for consumption. “I don’t want a Stand By Me situation, so please stop when you hit your limit.”

They’d waved him off intent to outdo the other in their bid to stuff their face with the most pie. Honestly this was by far the easiest competition they’d gotten into; Josh sure could bake which made this an enjoyable competition to boot.

Chocolate Macaroon had been the next pie up and Aidan was sure that it was the greatest thing Josh had created yet. It was chocolatey and delicious and the macaroon crust was an excellent choice in his opinion.

“Slowing down, old man?”

“You wish, just getting started.”

Bishop had proclaimed the next pie, s’mores with a sugar cookie crust, the best one by far. It was gooey and chocolatey sweet and the crust choice was a spectacular combination. He waxed poetry the entirety of the pie’s demolition.

The pies followed in quick succession after that; Coconut banana cream pie, coconut French silk, blackberry complete with a lattice top, and lemon meringue. Things got a bit trickier around the time Josh brought out his chocolate crust dulce de leche pie.

Bishop had long since unfastened his pants to make room for his gluttony induced indulgence, and Aidan while still buttoned, looked about a bite away from bursting through an article of clothing. The pair was beginning to slow down at this point of their self-imposed competition. Still neither wanted to admit defeat just yet, especially with the end in sight. There were two pies left; the dulce de leche pie and a butterscotch pudding pie.

Wetting his lips Bishop decided to start with the dulce de leche pie wanting to leave the butterscotch pudding for last figuring the hint of saltiness from the butter would help it go down smoother than leaving the more condensed sweet of dulce de leche. Aidan decided just the opposite wanting to save his dulce de leche for last having more of a pronounced sweet tooth than his maker.

Josh was honestly surprised, he didn’t think the vampires would get this far in their contest, but then he shouldn’t be too surprised; between the pair of them they’d piled on an impressive 65 pounds this past year alone. Still Josh would be lying if he didn’t admit that their gluttony had impressed him. He was curious to see which one would give in first, they were usually too hardheaded to leave in a tie, but he was hopeful that their eyes didn’t prove too big for their stomachs.

Bishop finishes first and he looks absolutely wrecked for his efforts. His gut is swollen with pie jutting out proudly into his lap, shirt having risen to expose even more flesh. He’s left panting as he sets his fork down, slumping back in his chair trying in vain to soothe his throbbing belly.

Aidan, not to be deterred, doubles down on his efforts to choke down the rest of the dulce de leche pie. He’s beginning to regret leaving it for last. He’s a fan of sweets but topping off a pie binge with one this sickly sweet was the worst choice he’s made. Still he can’t let Bishop win; his maker will never let him live it down, especially with how he had started the whole event so sure of himself.

He may pay for it later, but for now he crams the last half slice in his mouth out of pure spite. It sits in his stomach like a fucking brick. Groaning softly he leans back in his seat managing to steal a deep breath, the first he’s managed since pie four, exhaling slowly he’s surprised when there’s a sudden pop near his waist and the pressure vice that had been there is gone as a button goes skittering to the kitchen floor.

“I think you both deserve rewards,” Josh says wetting his lips as he picks up the discarded button. “You’ve both been so good clearing your plates, I’d say that deserves something, wouldn’t you?”

“Is the reward belly rubs,” Bishop asks still idly rubbing his belly to offer some relief.

“I could go for a belly rub,” Aidan nods in agreement.

Chuckling Josh nods in agreement, “okay we can start with a belly rub.”


End file.
